Watching Death Poem

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Watching death

Seeing someone die, right before your eyes
Moment of her death, I was by her side
When the heart beat slows, soon will be the end

Do they go away, to a better place
Wish I could believe, something more exists
Heart beat fades away, not long to the end

Part of me upset, at the loss of her
Yes she was my Mum, not that we were close
Just an empty shell, wishing for the end

Did not look in pain, just looked fast asleep
Listen to the sound, hear the final beep
Nothing but machines, almost at the end

You should never see, you should never know
Looking into death, watching someone go
Then the heart beats gone, know that is the end
Dean Thorpe
Southend pier, the place we scattered my mums ashes

About the poem

This poem IS based on something I actually went through, so please feel free to send me comments on the poem, but do try to keep them constructive.

My Mums death came as a big shock, we went to see her on Saturday and she was looking tired and said she was not up to looking after Joanne (She looked after our daughter once a month) that day, I admit that we thought it was probably just another excuse to not do it. On the Tuesday she was rushed into hospital, we went to see her, but she was basically unconscious, but still breathing on her own. Each time we saw her there were more and more machines, supporting her, controlling her, but it felt like she was no longer there. On the Friday I got the call I knew would be coming soon and rushed to the hospital as fast as I could. The Doctors and Nurses were very nice, sat me down and explained that they had done everything they could, but that my Mum would not last much longer. They led me in to sit with her and I sat there all alone holding her hand. I did not need to be a doctor to know that the machines were saying the same as the Doctors, her pulse etc. was so low that I knew it was almost time, then the beeping stopped and she was gone.

I had not always been close to my Mum, we had had our differences, she had done things and made choices that I did not agree with, sometimes I loved her, sometimes I hated her, but she was still my Mum. Towards the end we had been getting closer and working out our differences. Watching her die is the most traumatic thing I have been through and I have been through a lot, but deep down I am pleased that I was there.

I have added some of my Mums poems to this site, she loved people reading them:

My Mums poems

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