On Feb. 17, 2015 my grandma, Patricia Ann Hancock "Bama" passed away. My boys and I flew out from Allen, Texas to spend her last days with her. By the time we got there she was completely unresponsive and only showed signs of life if she was hurting. Which happened pretty much anytime she was even gently touched. She wouldn't open her eyes, she just moaned quietly. For two days before she passed, I was able to sit by her bedside and hold her hand. It seemed like she was holding on for something and my mom was going crazy trying to figure out why... We still don't know the exact reason... The morning of Feb. 17th, Bama's caregiver was with her and she came out and announced that it was time. My mom and I went to be with her and everything was so... weird. The room was so still and peaceful. I felt an incredible amount of emotion. Most of all I felt relief. Relief that she was finally free from her failing, painful body.
The night before Bama died I found out that I was, unexpectedly, pregnant. Bama told me, a few months ago, that her dying wish was for me to have a baby girl. On Feb. 17th I went into her room, alone, and I told her my news. It was minutes later that she passed. I don't know if she heard me or if it was just coincidence, but either way I'm glad I told her.
Bama lived at my parents house for over 7 months before she passed. I was able to watch my mother show me the greatest example example of service. My mom was with Bama every step of the way, caring for her and making sure that she had the best care. My mom basically put her entire life on hold to care for her dying mother. I will never forget that.
Bama's funeral was short and sweet, just like her. I was able to play Ave Maria on the violin (a song Bama requested I play, multiple times) and my mom, uncle, cousin and I were all able to say a few things about our beloved Bama at the funeral.
Everyone loved Bama and we were so lucky to have her in our lives.
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