Catholic Etiquette???

I am a religious poser.  A wannabe, if you will.

Tonight I arranged to have a Priest perform the Holy sacrament of Anointing of the Sick for my Paternal Grandmother.  This is the new term Catholics call it.  I was used to Last Rites, but that is passe.  I've been online ever since trying to learn the details of this last sacrament.

To give you a bit of background:   I was yanked out of Catholic school when I was 10.  The itchy plaid jumpers and knee socks were replaced by pencil jeans and keds.  The nuns were replaced by polygamous teachers.  I kid you not, but Mr. Swapp still remains one of the best teachers I ever had...only in Utah.  But I never went back to church.  No more Sunday school, no more incense, no more studying the Bible for me.  Instead, my family spent our day of worship on the golf course.  I did make it through baptism, first Holy communion, and confession.  The last time I made it to confession it went something like this:

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.  It has been 14 years since my last confession.  My first sin is that I don't remember the Act of Contrition...." 

It just got worse from there.  The Priest was so taken aback he just told me I was brave enough to show up in the booth and that I was forgiven, no prayers needed.  The best part about that whole thing was I actually didn't feel guilty taking communion that mass.  However, I haven't been back since.

My Grandmother has bladder cancer.  She was a champ through the chemo to help reduce the size of the tumor, the numerous stint revisions, and the pain.  Two days ago I went to my Grandparents house for dinner.  People from hospice were packing her bags getting her ready to go to a nursing home.  She was there a little over 24 hours when she began to say her goodbyes.  She told my Mom what a wonderful daughter-in-law she had been and its been reported she had a very similar touching talk with my aunts.  My Grandfather even went there to say his goodbye.  As of tonight she has been moved to my aunt's home because she didn't want to die in a care facility.  My aunt is doing the vigil watch for the last days or hours as Grandma has been placed with a morphine pump. 

Grandma was the best Catholic of us all and requested a Priest.  I was the one with a direct connection through the hospital.  Tonight I called one of my dearest friends, our hospital chaplain, and before I knew it I was giving the Priest directions to my aunt's house.  Somewhere about 7:00 tomorrow night this mystical act of faith will be performed on my Grandmother.  It was her last request.

I feel really good that I was able to help in someway.  My only hope is that I didn't step on anyones toes.  If you've ever had a crisis in your extended family, you know what I'm talking about.  All the family dynamics rear their ugly heads and all of a sudden your 52 year old father is acting like he's 8 and the rest assume their positions of hero, scapegoat, wall flower, dictator, etc (add your adjective here).  The women are doing amazing work and unfortunately, the men are allowing this to happen without them.  What the guys don't realize is the valuable gift they are giving up. 

I was part of my Pop's last hours on this earth.  I helped push his morphine button, made sure he was comfortable, told him stories, and reconciled on so many levels.  The most important and intimate minutes of anyones life is their birth and their death.  If you can be present for either of those, consider yourself blessed.  It may sound macabre, but coming from a girl who has watched hundreds die, I'm speaking from experience.  It is a gift, simple as that.