Abide with me

[skiddy]

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.


Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.


Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word,
But as Thou dwell'st with Thy disciples, Lord,
Familiar, condescending, patient, free.
Come not to sojourn, but abide with me.


Come not in terrors, as the King of kings,
But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings;
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea.
Come, Friend of sinners, thus abide with me.


Thou on my head in early youth didst smile,
And though rebellious and perverse meanwhile,
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee.
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me.


I need Thy presence every passing hour.
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.


I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.


Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.




This was my Nana's favourite song. She loved it, she used to sit in her chair in the corner of my parents front room, when this was on Songs Of Praise or the 11/11 coverage, she'd sit and sing along to this.

For the last couple of years of her life, she was blind. She woke up one morning and wanted a cup of tea for breakfast. She was living with us in my parents house. My mum used to always take her a cup of tea in the morning for breakfast. This one morning, my mum was busy, the tea wasn't there when my Nana woke up.

She woke, then walked to the stairs. She made the first four stairs, but stumbled on the fifth after the small landing. I slept through all of this. I woke to find my mum in tears, a blood stain at the bottom of the stairs and raw flesh hanging off the table at the bottom of the stairs. My Nana had been taken to hospital in an Ambulance. She would never return home.

About six weeks after she was admitted to hospital, she was transferred to the local nursing home. This was about a mile from my house. Easy walking distance, I'd walked a short distance less each day for the last five years to the school opposite the nursing home.

I hate nursing homes, I hate hospitals. They smell of death, they smell of decay. I went to see her twice in hospital, twice in the nursing home. One of these times was Christmas.

She died around six months after being admitted to the nursing home, approximately seven months after her fall down the stairs.

She'd done everything for me whilst she lived with us. When I returned home from school, she was home and I could talk to her. When I was upset, I talked to her. On Monday nights, when I watched the new series of Deep Space Nine, she would be there, in the corner, listening to it, trying to understand, but I could talk to her.

Now, five years later, she's still gone.

I miss her. Very much.


A few days ago, I downloaded a choir version of Abide With Me. It was upsetting to listen to, but in some ways I felt closer to my Nana. Still can't listen to it without being upset, although this past week is the first time I've heard it since she died.

I expect this thread will seep to the depths of the thread listing rather quickly, but I just wanted to post it and get what I was feeling into writing somewhere.

Thanks.

[Knight Theamion]

I envy the bond you had with your nana and admire the fact that after 5 years you still honour her like you do.

[1-X]

That's a very sad story skiddy.

I have a very similar one about my granddad (who died 3 years ago)

A wonderful man, I don't think I respected anyone in the world more than him. He came to live with us too when he couldn't look after himself (he had alzheimers) before eventually going to a nursing home (where he died peacefully after a few months aged 80).

I can remember how he'd smile when I'd pick him up off the floor (once he'd been lying there for hours), how he'd joke when I was supporting him while he had his "adult nappy" changed, how you could feel almost happy for him when his mind played tricks on him and he thought he was a schoolboy back in New Zealand, or just married after the war, because when he was "there" he was free from the state he was in and the memories of losing his wife and son (the start of his decline).

I rarely visited him in the home, never knew him as well as I would have liked. There were times when we could have brought him out of the home just to be among his family or take him somewhere nice. It was too much trouble. We didn't expect him to just not be there anymore.

Their song was 'amazing grace' btw and I can remember how we'd joke when my nan sang it at every family occasion. Now it's a sad reminder of "proper christmasses" when they were around.

We've all got it to look forward to.

[pig]

I have a story about my Nana.

She died about 6 months ago in hospital. She was an amazing women, and had achieved a lot in her lifetime. She lost my gradnfather but still stayed as happy as she could. She had her own flat and although she couldnt really do much she always made you a cup of tea whenever you went round. Her health deteriated though, this started about 4 years ago and each year it got worse. She had arthiritus, angina and hip problems. So one bad fall and she was in hospital. Eventually about a year ago she went to a nursing home.

It was heartbreaking. My mum is divorced and works full time with a bloody good career. There was no way she could stop earning to look after my nana. So she had to go to a nursing home. My nana didnt want to go, it reminded me a bit of first day of school. You could see she was nervous and frightened.

At this point I hadnt really seen my nan much because I was at university. But when I was back at home, every sunday we would go for sunday lunch. She loved it. Just seeing her smile was so nice. However just after before the start of my second year exams, she had another bad fall, and this time her angina got worse etc. She was admitted firstly to a hospital called Good Hope IN birmingham. Its the worst hospital in the country referred to locals as "No Hope" It was a heartbreaking time. My mum was in the hospital every free hour of the day, my sisters were commuting up and my younger sister was going after school. I was the only one who couldnt go.

One such time that angered me was when my mother walked in one day and saw a bruise on my Nanas face and her arms. My mum asked my nana how did it happen. She told how she fell out of bed and called for the nurses but was lying on the floor for a good amount of time. When the nurses finally came she was called a silly cow for falling out of bed. The anger I felt. I wanted to kill the nurses. I wanted to smack them Hard. I wanted them to feel the pain my nana felt. But I couldnt I wasnt there. Nor was I allowed to return home.

Eventually my nana was transferred to what I call dying hospitals. A particularly nice hospital on the edge of birmingham. Staff were friendly and she had her own room and was left in peace but always looked after. I was due to travel europe for a month and as stupid as it sounds I was thinking about not visiting my Nana. Then I had a feeling that I knew she was at deaths door. The doctors, the nurses, my mother all said it. So I went to visit it her, the morning I flew out.

I remember that day. She poured a glass of whisky for herself and me, and asked me to sing danny boy which was her and my grandads favourite song. We sat there talked for one last time, and as I left she said goodbye. We both knew it was the last time we would see each other.

The day she died I was in Berlin. Sitting by the Brandenberg gate I received a phone call. It wasnt a shock. I wasnt sad. I wasnt happy. I was relieved for her mainly. The pain was terrible her final days were just suffering, but I will always remember her and I will always remember the moments we had together.

Just thought id add, its nice to write about your loved ones reminds you of how much you really do love them.

[Superpig #1]

Those are very sad stories Skiddy, Pig and 1-X.

My 2 grandads and 1 of my nan's died before i was born so and my only living grandparent lives in Essex, 200 odd miles away from me, so i dont see much of her.

[Ste]

my grandma's in a home and i haven't seen her in over a year.

Last time I did she didn't recognise me.

Her memory has completely gone. She thinks she's only in the home for a one week holiday because she's forgotten how long she's been there. She says that my grandad will be coming to pick her up soon when he's been dead for about 12 years.
oh and my dad has to keep reminding her that him and his brother aren't at school still...

it's quite sad

[Superpig #1]

Yeah its sad when that happens , i hope i never get like that, I give GD permission to "help me on my way" if it ever does happen

[Alki]

That brought back nice memories of me and my nana, before she passed away in a nursing home. Thanks guys

[Blastoderm]

I have strong feelings for my grandad.

It's so strong that I'm changing my surname to his name.

Coincidentally, I was talking about him earlier today to a classmate (it's a she and yes she's fit). Sometimes I wish he was still alive. He looked after me, played games and walked around the town when I was a kid. You could say he was like a second dad (no gay jokes please). When he passed away (I was around 8 or 10), I remembered my dad crying quietly in his room. I didn't know whether I wanted to cry or trash something out of anger. I just remained silent throughout the whole thing.

10 years now and I still miss him. I've still got a picture of me & him & my brother when I was 5. I still remember that day.

Thanks skiddy for reminding me about him (again).

[PSH]

My granddad died on Christmas day, quite a few years back now. I was about 15 at the time, my brother and I were upstairs playing Royal Rumble on the SEGA Megadrive my mom had worked, begged and borrowed to get us. I started to get all these feelings of what a horrible person I was playing on this and having fun while my mom was downstairs alone on Christmas day so I went downstairs gave her a big hug and said thanks for what she had done. I was downstairs barely two minutes when there was a knock at the door and a family friend had come round to break the news, to this day I can't help but think these feelings were no accident and were somehow connected to what was happening.

We hated visiting my granddad because he was a diabetic and an extremely strict man, when we did visit we spent most of the time thinking up excuses to get out of there because he was always in pain and took it out on those around him. I would have loved to have known him when he was in his prime because he was a strong, confident but funny character before he got ill according to my older relations. My Nan stuck by him until the end, she is a wonderful woman, I can talk to her about almost anything and she never judges, she puts things into perspective for me and makes me feel better (same as my mom, I'm lucky to have them). I am going to see her with my girlfriend this weekend and I will know how lucky I am to have her around when I am there.

This is the first forum thread that has ever bought a tear to my eye (without grotesquely painful images), thanks to all involved for sharing your stories.