We lost Rose

My phone rang this morning as we were getting ready to leave for church. It was brother-in-law Jim; his first words were “We lost Rose.”

We were with the family yesterday around Rose’s hospital bed in Moose Jaw. We couldn’t tell if she knew we were there or not, but she was still breathing. Her husband Butch was there, their daughters Michelle and Crystal, Rose’s brother Jim and three of her four sisters. Jim is the oldest in the family, then Chris, to whom I am married; Rose was the middle of five girls.

Chris grew up in the home of an aunt and uncle, the others remained with their parents. Chris kept in contact with her siblings, with Rose more than any of the others.

Rose married at 15, was still happily married at 61. Way too young for this to happen. She had cancer a year ago, was now cancer free, but not strong enough to fight off the pneumonia that was the beginning of the end.

The family talked about old times, about everything and nothing. Mike and Kevin, the sons-in-law, brought in dinner for us all. We watched the nurse come in to check on Rose, give her morphine every two hours, place a steam mask close to her face from time to time to ease her breathing. We were aware of her presence. Was she aware of ours? We don’t know.

We left for home at 5 PM; Chris said good-bye to Rose, knowing it was for the last time. She breathed her last at 2 AM this morning. Jim’s call delivered the shock we knew was coming. We lost Rose.

© Bob Goodnough, December 29, 2019

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