It came on Saturday evening. Mr Warehouse had spent the day putting up a TV bracket for the living room taking nearly four-hours and now we were sat cosily on our sofa with the dogs, curled up in blankets watching Saturday night telly. I had been quietly contemplating visiting my Scottish Grandmother in Hospital since Friday morning, however, the weekend was nearly halfway through and the last visit I wished I hadn't have gone.
Walking into the building the whole place seemed quiet and less busy than I would have imagined it being. The ward smelt like bleach and chlorine, clean and clinical although stepping into the room my Nanna was in, donned in a plastic surgeon gown and face mask (even though studies show they don't make a difference when it comes to COVID-19 Coronavirus), she seemed peacefully asleep. Sat in an almost biblically white room, angel-like as she lay in bed with her hair white as snow and blankets piled high. She looked comfortable. And yet despite all this, I struggled with the fact that she barely said anything. From a woman who struggled to zip it (she was a talkative soul), to now see her coldly silent, it was chilling.
I said to myself that if she was more animated and talkative on Friday and Saturday then Mr Warehouse and I would visit on Sunday. I didn't want to see her like that again, but if she was talking more then maybe that would make that memory fade more into the background when she had gone. Uncle Golf had said that the nurses and doctors had changed her medication and this had seemed to put a little spring in her step earlier on in the week so it seemed positive. However, on reading that message, I knew I would never get the chance.
"I am sorry to have to tell you that at 6.15pm this evening Nanna passed away peacefully," the message read. "She will now be with Granda and her family in heaven, looking down and smiling on us all" it continued. My heart broke. I did not cry, but of course, I was very sad. All of those ideas and thoughts I had in my head sitting in her rocking chairs together as we watched some old black and white movie as I cradled my swollen pregnant tummy someday, or maybe how she would cooe over her great-grandchild. The closest I got was her meeting my fur child, Frankenstein whom she was quite fond of, always asking about him when I called, even let him lick her face and cuddling him like a baby.
"That's a bit of a long pause between breaths," they thought, chatting away. Calling in a nurse, and then a doctor, and then someone else, they confirmed that yes, Nanna had taken her last breath, listening to her beloved children twitter on about shoes. I am sure she would have found it comical.
And that was that. Nothing more, nothing less, a simple slipping away to heavens gate. But I should be grateful I and others got a chance to see her one last time. I remember how I kissed her on the forehead goodbye I told her it was OK to go and to say hello to Granda for me (he died when I was only four-months-old). She sighed and made a slight noise, but I am almost certain she didn't know who I was or why I was there. And now she is with him. What the future holds? Not a clue. I feel awkward asking about a funeral as she is barely cold, but with me being the only one running the department for the last couple of days with little help or support and the phones busy, work was one of the things I selflessly thought about.
As we now enter week number four of lockdown in the UK as we battle the dreaded COVID-19 Coronavirus and with Boris Johnson (Britains Prime Minister) only recently been released from intensive care in hospital, Downing Street announced late last week that we are still amongst a state of national emergency. Continuing the message to stay at home and save the NHS, Lockdown was being extended. The BBC reports that restrictions in the UK will continue for "at least" another three weeks as it tackles the coronavirus outbreak, concluding that a review of relaxing the measures now would risk harming public health and the economy. The UK recorded death toll is now standing at over 16,000 - The population of places like Cirencesterin Gloucestershire, Penzance in Cornwall or my very own home town.
BBC.co.uk continues that the strict limits on daily life - such as requiring people to stay at home, shutting many businesses and preventing gatherings of more than two people - were introduced on 23 March, as the government tried to limit the spread of coronavirus. What that means for funerals? But looking online there seems to only be guidance from the media and newspapers. Nothing from Government. Reading on Metro.co.uk that weddings, baptisms and other ceremonies are being stopped during the coronavirus lockdown, but funerals will still be going ahead. However, it is unclear that, death from COVID-19 or not, lockdown measures including a ban on social gatherings of more than two people makes it a complicated time to cough it (excuse the pun) and the government still has yet to clarify how many people will be permitted to attend a funeral during this time or if only close and immediate family members are aloud only. Advice from the National Association of Funeral Directors (NAFD), said that whilst they have reached out to the Government to clarify a number of questions, including the maximum number of people that can attend a funeral, the initial advice is to arrange funerals over the phone wherever possible, restrict attendees to immediate close family only as well as respecting social distancing guidelines.
And so as the strange times continue for another few weeks yet, for it will get worse before it gets better, especially where my mother is concerned. But alas, I have to laugh and think about what my Scottish Nanna would say - "At Least that's one RSVP you won't have to chase"
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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