It would seem that the person who was dying was going through the most change. Afterall, moving from life to death (and in Grandma's case, back to life again) seems to be quite a complex event. Question: If the survival instinct is indeed true, does a body have to work harder to die or to live when ravenged by illness?
Anyhoo...Grandma died. And it was as peaceful as it could be.
However, I am amazed at the flurry of activity that has taken place since Hospice called this morning. My mother hasn't stopped moving. Me...I went back to sleep and tried to sort out what it meant for my favorite grandma to be gone.
I had to wake up however, because the phone won't stop ringing. Last night, people streamed in and out of hospice and it was peaceful and quiet. Hushed tones mingled with outbursts of laughter - lots of laughter because Grandma = a good story.
I'm writing now because my mother doesn't need me to do anything. She only needs me to just be there.
Of course, Mom is talking to another cousin about my other grandma, who was checked into the hospital yesterday. She's 86. There's nothing wrong with her, but she doesn't like to be alone, so she goes to the hospital for a few days a month so that she can have some company (she's run off her family, so she doesn't get many visitors at home). We now call her "Last Grandma Standing..."
It's funny how life goes on even when life stops.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Staying close by where Grandma can see me...
My grandma is nearing the end of her life. Funny, because she doesn't seem to mind - but I sure do. Of course, Grandma knows that we are broken-hearted, but she's got Jesus to look forward to and we're no competition for Jesus. And we don't want to be.
No one told me that losing a grandma would be this hard. I don't care that she's 76 and she's lived a long life...a good life - it's still hard. I exhausted myself with trying to reason this whole thing out. I was working through the "old people are supposed to die" model. It's a crappy model, through, because each of those old people dying have grandchildren and children standing by their bedside (at least the lucky ones do). Age has nothing to do with heartbreak.
Grandma and I talked at least twice a week every week for the past five or six years. We would talk for an hour or so on my days off. It wouldn't be Wednesday or Friday if Grandma didn't call. Our chats criss-crossed current events, politics ("I don't know Barb - do you think folks will vote for a black man?"), faith - lots of talk about her faith.
Last April, I picked up Grandma from Medina (about two hours away) and she road-tripped with my girls and I to visit my sister in Washington DC. In August, my mom, aunts, myself, my girls and Grandma went on a chick-trip to Pennsylvania where we made memories for a lifetime as we got lost on a mountain and made GPS-Jane an honorary member of our family. Grandma would come for basketball games and to see me speak at church. My aunts could never come visit without her because she was always planning the next trip to see her "great-grandbabies."
Is it me or does everyone think their grandma is more special than everyone elses? Mine is pretty special. She spent a lifetime telling me how much I meant to her. I'm 36, yet, in my mind's eye I am 10 years old eating watermelon in her kitchen. She's doing the dishes and watching her soap operas. Before I go outside, tells me to stay close by where she can see me.
And that's what I will remember for now. On Friday, we are going to go visit Grandma - probably for the last time. I think I'll spend the day staying close by...where she can see me.
No one told me that losing a grandma would be this hard. I don't care that she's 76 and she's lived a long life...a good life - it's still hard. I exhausted myself with trying to reason this whole thing out. I was working through the "old people are supposed to die" model. It's a crappy model, through, because each of those old people dying have grandchildren and children standing by their bedside (at least the lucky ones do). Age has nothing to do with heartbreak.
Grandma and I talked at least twice a week every week for the past five or six years. We would talk for an hour or so on my days off. It wouldn't be Wednesday or Friday if Grandma didn't call. Our chats criss-crossed current events, politics ("I don't know Barb - do you think folks will vote for a black man?"), faith - lots of talk about her faith.
Last April, I picked up Grandma from Medina (about two hours away) and she road-tripped with my girls and I to visit my sister in Washington DC. In August, my mom, aunts, myself, my girls and Grandma went on a chick-trip to Pennsylvania where we made memories for a lifetime as we got lost on a mountain and made GPS-Jane an honorary member of our family. Grandma would come for basketball games and to see me speak at church. My aunts could never come visit without her because she was always planning the next trip to see her "great-grandbabies."
Is it me or does everyone think their grandma is more special than everyone elses? Mine is pretty special. She spent a lifetime telling me how much I meant to her. I'm 36, yet, in my mind's eye I am 10 years old eating watermelon in her kitchen. She's doing the dishes and watching her soap operas. Before I go outside, tells me to stay close by where she can see me.
And that's what I will remember for now. On Friday, we are going to go visit Grandma - probably for the last time. I think I'll spend the day staying close by...where she can see me.
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