Viv by Anna Holmes. Part Five

5

While Viv was in a morphine induced coma for the final two days of her life, we continued to soothe her and I know she could hear us. Twice on that first day I asked her to give me a kiss and I saw her lips pucker in response, and other times she made her displeasure crystal clear: she did not want a water soaked sponge to moisten her gums, as we had been instructed to do. Her jaw clamped tight to keep this intrusion out, so we stopped imposing this on her.  Who knows what it is like to die until we take that journey ourselves - but it seemed Viv was moving to a different place.

Before Viv died Lynne and I sat by her bedside through the night, talking gently and stroking her hair, expecting the end to come at any moment.  We kept a candle burning and the window slightly open to encourage her spirit to depart.  That was a tough night.  Listening to her deep ragged breaths it reminded me of my own low, animal bellow sounds when I was in labour giving birth. She was beyond reach, no longer able to tell us what she was feeling, and we could only hope this phase was not painful. Viv died the following afternoon, with a friend, Paula, holding her hand.  I was in the next room exhausted and willing Viv to let go and not ask more of me than I was able to give. I had heard stories of loved ones being a coma for many days and even into weeks and dreaded the thought. I wept with relief and sadness tinged with happiness to see Viv looking so peaceful in death.  Women friends who had been on vigil in the final days and our brother who lived locally returned to the house. I took a beautiful photo of the women gathered around Viv’s bed – which I call ‘the women watchers’ as there is such tenderness and compassion in their faces. Viv was bathed one final time and dressed her in the comfy clothes Lynne and I had picked out ready: a soft woollen jumper she was fond of, stretchy pull-on jeans and deliberately chosen ill matched socks to complete her outfit.  It looked like Viv was having a nap, and this is when I had my final photo taken with her. 

We left Viv’s body in her bedroom overnight keeping her room cool with the window open, while Lynne and I stayed cosy by the fire, then the following morning key carers returned and we gently transferred her out to her final resting place.  I was surprised her body was so light, like a desiccated Egyptian mummy - only her shell left.  We placed her in her beautiful coffin and covered her with the quilt Carole had made. We placed momentos under her hands held to her chest: a final letter of love from me; a photo with her and my sons; a candle from a niece. A paua shell filled with sand from the local beach was placed by her feet and a packet of wine gums in memory of cycling holidays with my boys went in too.  A sharp flax cutter went with her with to use to break out in case of fire. A few little pre-arranged jokes.  We placed the coffin in the back of Lynne’s van so Viv spent the final night in her airy garage attached to her house. This was pre-arranged too. I had suggested to Viv that perhaps she might like to spend the last night or nights in her coffin on her veranda but she hadn’t fancied that idea at all.  

Read Part Four here

Read Part Six here