RIP Jessie Anna Ross Skinner in Scottish Meanderings

Well apparently it did mean she was near the end.

But after the awful couple of months she’d had what a very peaceful end it was.

Thank you all for your kind notes from my last entry.

Incredibly she lasted six days without food or drink. She had been eating and drinking less and less and on the Wednesday before last, ate her last meal of some scrambled egg - thereafter she would only take some water but by the Sunday even that was too difficult and we knew it was just a matter of time.

The whole family arrived at various stages to say their goodbyes although she was only semi conscious - however we were assured she would be aware of the general conversation and that we were all there.

I returned reluctantly on Sunday night to sort out the cats and rearrange some appointments I’d made for that week then on Tuesday teatime Lorna texted to say the hospice had phoned her to say Mam’s breathing and colour had changed so there wasn’t long left. Lorna had been up at the hospice the whole day as she had virtually every single other day and she chose not to go back up as Mam was pretty much unconscious by then, being on very strong painkillers and sedated quite a bit. Although I totally respected her decision it didn’t sit right with me and I just couldn’t settle so, realising there was little chance of getting there in time, I flung some stuff in a bag, texted Nikki to feed the cats and raced off in the car. (I was about 3.5 hours away).

Unbeknown to me, my oldest brother, Ian, and his wife Margaret were doing exactly the same thing and we all arrived at the hospice at exactly the same time! In the car on the way up I was pleading with Dad not to take her until I got there, knowing I had no right to ask such a thing and knowing we’ve all got our own time to go. Having to stop for the toilet or getting stuck behind a slow moving lorry was purgatory because you knew that a few minutes could make such a difference but there had been no texts en route so I presumed she was still with us and indeed she was.

Her breathing was laboured and fairly noisy but she looked peaceful and we settled down to wait. Ian & Margaret went to make a cup of tea and I quickly texted Nikki to let her know I’d got there okay. In the middle of doing that it suddenly went quiet. I looked at Mam and could see she was still taking breaths but there were now gaps in between and the movement from the sheet on the bed was imperceptible. I whispered “Oh Mam please wait until Ian gets back” then felt terrible I’d said it and immediately followed with “No don’t - if it’s time just slip away”. Luckily Margaret came into the room just at that minute so she rushed to get Ian who went to get a nurse. At which point we realised I could have used the buzzer sitting beside Mam’s bed! Your brain does daft things when you’re panicking ......

The nurse told us this was quite normal and not to worry but just to buzz if there was any other change and off she went. We relaxed. Ian decided to go and phone his daughter to let her know they’d got there. I stroked Mam’s head and Margaret & I chatted quietly, both glancing at Mam in between and literally seconds later we realised she hadn’t taken another breath. We kept on watching, desperately willing the sheet to rise again but no - that was it. She’d gone.

Did she wait for us coming? I don’t know. What I do know is I can’t tell you how happy I was to have been there at the end - it was eating me up to think of her perhaps dying alone or with just a nurse from the hospice there. And it’s a very strange experience to feel elated and desperately sad at one and the same time!

I just wanted to give a snapshot of her life in this entry but have never done one with so many photos before so I hope it doesn’t take forever to load - apologies if so. I can’t tell because my computer is so old and worn out everything takes forever to load! And I’m cursing myself because yesterday I passed the best of the photos I had of her to Lorna who is going to try and make a folder to look at after the funeral. So I haven’t left myself with many to choose from.

Anyway here we go.

As a teenager, footloose and fancy free!

All kitted out for war work.

And then along came the only man she ever loved in her life.

Newly engaged and very much in love (I love how she’s trying to get the ring in the picture inadvertently!)

The wedding day. No fancy dresses in wartime!

Proud Mum showing off her first newborn.

They didn’t have much money but were deliriously happy together. With the boys on the beach.

The very top windows you see in this picture was their first home - a tiny flat above the shop my Dad worked in (now a restaurant) - then a bakery owned by his uncle (as in second photo). She was a great believer in fresh air for kids and had the boys out to the park every afternoon so had to heave the pram up God knows how many sets of stairs to the flat every day. No wonder she was thin then!

But woe betide anyone who said Mrs. Skinner had untidy children! Every trip to the park or town or anywhere was accompanied by a spare change of clothes just in case. Here she’s walking beside her sister who’s pushing Lorna in the pram (thankfully they were getting smaller by then) with the 2 boys kitted out in front.

Bridesmaid at her sister’s wedding (despite having 3 young children she made her dress and also her sister’s).

And then there were four. After two miscarriages in her thirties, they almost gave up and called their family complete - but they were desperate for another baby so persevered - and good job they did otherwise I wouldn’t be here! This was taken at my christening.

Even in her forties she didn’t slow down. Here she is interrupting hanging out the washing to play hopscotch with me as Dad digs the garden.

After 25 years together they were still as much in love as when they first met. Here they are celebrating their silver wedding anniversary.

But this is what I remember the most - family time. Sunday afternoons on the beach or climbing up a hill or going for a long walk always with friends or other family. Dad worked 6 days a week and went to church on Sunday mornings but he relished his family time.

(Pic not found)

And after Dad died suddenly at the far too early age of 54, she made good use of their shared hobby of bowling, realising it was giving her a new lease of life and enabling her to make new friends. She went on to be very successful at it, winning trophies, cups, medals, spoons and rosebowls. It virtually saved her life and helped to bring her out of her grief. She’s third on the right in this photo.

Which was just as well because little did she know she had another 40 years to survive without him. Not even a diagnosis of acute myeloid leukeamia just before her 75th birthday could finish her off - at the time we took her away for the weekend to celebrate and try to take her mind off it.

But she was lucky enough to be treated with tablets which had just been researched and which were successful in keeping her in remission. And allowed her to celebrate her 90th birthday 4 years ago. Still beautiful at 90.

Lorna was instrumental in allowing her to stay in her own flat up until September this year so that was pretty good going and it’s just a shame her last few weeks were so awful.

There was a time I believed in an afterlife without question. Now I’m not so sure but desperately hope there is and that wherever she is she’s with Dad. And I hope they can both peep in on Tuesday, the day of the funeral, because ALL her grandchildren and great grandchildren are able to come which is absolutely brilliant because the oldest is coming from New York and his brother is coming from Sri Lanka! Poor souls they were hit really hard with prices because of Thanksgiving - their tickets cost over 2000 dollars at the last count but it’s a measure of how much she was loved that they didn’t bat an eyelid. I have to say it’s a bit of a jolt to go on Facebook these days because a few of them have changed their profile pics to their favourite Granny photo but what a lovely gesture!

The day after I have to try and psyche myself up to pack a case for a week’s holiday in the Canary Islands with Ian & Margaret which I couldn’t feel less like doing. It was booked ages ago and we were going to cancel it but they decided Mam would want us to go. Which she would it’s true. I haven’t had a holiday for 7 years and after being ill this year she was really happy I was going. It’s just that I really don’t feel in holiday mode and I know Tuesday is going to be sooooooo hard to get through.

But hey - it’s nothing compared what she had to go through these last few weeks so maybe I should stop being such an ungrateful wretch and get on with it.

I’m going to miss her bucketloads.

Last updated March 28, 2018