Sally V. Garcia

I haven't gotten over here to post about it. I went back to Cali on the 4th of July. The whole way I was worried sick that she would be gone before I got there. I made it. I was warned about what I would see. I was still not prepared. She was emmaciated, and dying before my eyes. She was in so much pain that to even brush her skin with my fingertips, hurt her.

During that time, a constant prayer was running in my head. Just a constant, "Please let her live long enough for my Dad to get here and say goodbye." That was it. I did things for her that I have never done for another adult. Things that made me realize what a gift I had been given. To care for her the way she cared for me in my infant and childhood. To be able to be there to say goodbye. To let her know that I was there, that I loved her, that she could go peacefully.


I talked to her, made jokes, and cried. She waggled her eyebrows at me. She let me know that she was aware of me. She opened her eyes and looked at my Dad, then she let go. It was the most peaceful, beautiful, special moment. I was so thankful to be there for that.

This is what I posted on antoher site that sums it all up:

I got into Sacramento at about 5 on Friday (the fourth) and went straight to my Aunt's house. Gramma looked so bad. I could tell she was almost gone. It's hard to describe what it's like to see someone you love so much wasted away like that. She was breathing erratically. She wasn't on any tubes or anything except oxygen. I went in, told her I loved her, that I was there. Cracked some jokes (as hard as that was) when I laughed, she waggled her eyebrows at me. She was on a lot of morphine and methadone for the pain.

It's so strange, we only found out about the Cancer two weeks ago. Two weeks. I really believe once she heard that, she was done. She couldn't fight it and decided to quit. So, I spoke with her on the phone Sunday (she was still walking then) her voice was tired but she was still getting around. I spoke with her last Tuesday, she was very weak, couldn't speak well, super tired, no longer mobile. I got there Friday, she was completely out of it. She did open her eyes once to look at me, and was still waggling her eyebrows at my off color jokes. Saturday she had very labored breathing. I told her to please hold on, Dad was coming in at one. I called my MIL and she came with the Deacon to give Last Rites. Dad pulls up, comes in, she opens her eyes and sees him. Closes her eyes, takes one last breath and is gone. There was no gasping or fighting for air. I was so blessed to be there for that. It was so beautiful and peaceful. After all the pain she was in, God took her gently. We cried and prayed over her. She was at peace.

I know, I KNOW she waited for my Dad to get there before she let go. She chose her time. I am heart broken that my beautiful Gramma is gone. I mourn the time I missed with her. I mourn that I didn't get to see her more in the last two years. I mourn that my children didn't get a chance to know this amazing woman.

I am blessed that I got to help her in her time of need. One aunt and her husband had been caring for Gramma. An uncle had helped out a lot. I was there to help turn and change her. I was there to do for her what she had done for me when I was a baby and child. I am so thankful that I got that time with her. I am on a journey to continue her kindnesses. She would feed people that came to the door, she would always offer a place of comfort and rest. She had 9 living children, and 42 grand and great grandchildren combined.

She told someone that when she died she was coming back a blonde. LOL She is my Gramma.