Blogging · I love you · Me myself and I · Québec · Thoughts

Dear Palou…

wp-16943974761402093067118312567221

.

Today I experienced something I had never had the chance before…

Earlier this year, P, one of Mom’s sister was diagnosed with a bad case of cancer. It came as quite a shock, because about the same time, we were losing one of Dad’s sisters.

Back then, I had failed to show up on time to have one last chat with M. She was put under strong medication only hours before I showed up. And she passed away shortly after, leaving me with the burden of having been late.

When Little Bro contacted me on Friday to say he was going to Québec City to see P, I didn’t think twice. No way would I take a chance to miss seeing her alive one last time. So we arranged to travel together, and on Saturday, I was packing up for a quick come and go between Montréal and Québec City.

Today was the big day.

Mom, Dad, Little Bro and I rode from Trois-Rivières to Québec trying to keep the mood in the Jeep jolly despite the sad purpose of our trip.

Once on site, we had to wait a little… P had to have one of her lungs drained of the water that kept her from breathing fine, and she had to get an X-ray. All four of us moved to the hospital’s cafeteria to get a (questionable) meal. And then one of P’s sons texted Mom that we were welcome to come back up to P’s room.

We were lucky enough to spend a little time together, alone with her. It was already such a gift. But other guests started showing up, and Little Bro and I exited the room to give them some space.

Then more visitors came in, and Mom and Dad gave their place.

I wasn’t ready to leave Québec city, just yet. All four of us were in the hospital corridor, but I didn’t want to leave before having this conversation, I hadn’t had the chance to have with M.

So I put my foot down, and asked for a couple of minutes alone with P.

And I want to thank the people who were with her at the time. Because when I squatted near her I said…

I know that your position in your church has made you many children’s Aunty P. But to me, you’ll always be Aunty Palou.

She teared up, and quite honestly, I didn’t expect that.

I haven’t heard that in years -She said.

I continued… I’ve always loved you as the aunt I was waiting to wake up to step on her bed during the summer, back when we lived away from the rest of the family.

She smiled her biggest smile.

I didn’t want to say that she was on her last mile (who was I to know?), or that she was dying (how depressing). I chose,

I have a feeling this is the last time we meet in person…

And she agreed, with all of her resilience.

And we hugged and kissed and made peace in the best and most painfull way.

Just before I left the room, to let her enjoy time with other people she cherished, she gave me a task. And I made a promise to try my best to make it happen.

Dear Palou, I’ll do whatever I can to make it happen, I swear…

One thought on “Dear Palou…

Leave a comment