When I got in to P——-n last night, mom and I talked about my recollection of Dad’s last moments. Much to my surprise and amusement, she had a completely different take on what happened, even down to how much time elapsed (she thought it couldn’t have been two or three minutes, when I thought it took at least ten before it was over).
Mom was standing by the bed as Joe was getting up. She said that, all of a sudden, he simply collapsed, with part of his weight falling on her. She couldn’t support him, so told him to fall back on to the bed. I don’t think she could tell you if Joe was able to respond at that point, or whether she was able to redirect some of his movement so that he fell back on the bed. But he did.
When she called me upstairs, she said she felt that Joe had suffered a massive collapse, probably coronary, and that it was all over. But she didn’t know what to do next which is why she called the nurse. She had no recollection of pulling out the flyer to determine if this was it or not, and insists she didn’t think for a second that this wasn’t the end. In fact, she added that she specifically recalled taking note of one sign of imminent death just a few moments before Dad collapsed. (In case you can’t figure it out, I’m holding back a few details in these posts).
She also said that I was talking about pounding on Dad’s chest to try to revive him, but that she talked me out of it. Of course, I only recall sharing my mental process–that I felt like I should, but that Joe wouldn’t have wanted it.
Anyway, I’m quite sure my version of events is just as valid (and invalid) as hers. Our own little Rashomon.