Date: March 21st, 2010
The thing about the word vigil is that it evokes images of people standing in public squares, holding candles and weeping for an iconic stranger. People go to vigils whenever a young girl was kidnapped, whenever a celebrity dies and once a year on the anniversary of the Iraq War. They are ingrained in our conscious as a public rite of mourning for someone who has already passed.
However, the word itself simply means a period of watchful attention. There is a lot less ceremony to a vigil in honor of a loved one. Over the course of the night on Saturday and Sunday, my parents and I kept watch over my grandmother. It was important to her (and us) that someone be there when she passed and starting on Friday night she went into steep decline.
I took turns with my parents watching at her bedside until Sunday night. When I made the decision to go home and sleep, I knew my parents would continue to watch her bedside and see to it that she was cared for. They were awake all night on Sunday and into Monday morning watching her and making sure she was comfortable and unafraid.
There was nothing joyous about keeping a vigil over my grandmother, but there was a sense of purpose to it. There was so little left that we could do for her - making sure she was comfortable and that she knew she was loved were all we had left in our bag of hospice tricks. So that's what we did.
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