Home of Pie

How do you say goodbye to someone?

If you knew it was possibly the last week of someone's life, what do you say to them? What do you ask them? What do you give them that says, "Well, you are dying now - I will miss you..."
I was sitting on the couch forty minutes ago working on my thesis when my boyfriends mother called me to tell me his Grandmother was being put in hospice. She was diagnosed with stage four liver cancer a little over a month and a half ago. She is by no means young...and suffers from slight dimensia but other than that she is a sprightly 80-something year old who up until a month ago played tennis twice a week.
Now she is moving in with her daughter, her live in care will now be family, and my boyfriend is driving up to see her tomorrow. Will it be the last time? I don't know, but just writing that down brings a terrible twisting sensation to my stomach. Death is something that terrifies me...it unfortunately governs a lot of my decisions these days.
I remember that growing up I thought I was invincible. I thought I was tough shit and that no one and nothing could ever hurt me. I was slightly wild...jumping dirt bikes after twenty minutes of learning to ride them..ending up in the hospital, being your typical tom boy and trying to kick ass and take names by playing wild games of paintball at my friends ranch. Skinny dipping with my friends and driving too fast on the back roads of the tiny town I grew up in. It wasn't until I almost died right before my senior year of high school that I grew afraid of death. I remember hearing my father crying in the hallway telling my mother they didn't think I was going to make it.
Well I did. Because only the good die young...and I was too damn honery.
I became a slightly more cautious driver and I was more careful about where I walked around at night..but honestly my wild days were only just starting. I partied on through college and made myself known as the wild one. I was the crazy portagee dancing on the table and doing way too many beer bongs. I was the fall down drunk, fall asleep puking on the toilet, sing drunken-karaoke-girl. My favorite memories involve getting pulled behind a vehicle riding an office chair...rolling a couch down a hill while sitting on it with a beer...drunken horseback rides on Cinco de Mayo...drunk pole dancing with a pvc pipe in the middle of a field with twenty redneck trucks blasting Lil' Wayne. Too say I've done a little bit of everything would be a severe understatement. That was college, and now I am a 25 year old career oriented wannabe housewife...with a hyperactive twist.
Well, six months ago I almost died again. I think I could feel it coming, because in the last three years I have become extremely cautious. I hardly drink, I rarely party (probably because I am not in college anymore and I have a job...but still), and I am definitely not the daredevil motocross stuntsman I wanted to be at 15. Driving over 80 terrifies me and when we go to the desert I am constantly thinking of how someone is going to roll their car and die.

With my newely cautious attitude and death phobia, I am watching this tiny wisp of a woman wither away and I can't help but be terrified for her. She seems completely fine with the end drawing near, while the rest of us scuttle around her with tears in our eyes and lead in our stomachs. How can she be so calm while we wrench our hands in fear?

How do you get comfortable with death? Most importantly, how do you say goodbye without showing your fear?