For those of you who may not know my Grandmother passed away on Wednesday, July 16th. She lived more than a week longer than the hospice nurse had expected on Monday the 7th. Before her passing everyone in the family was able to say their goodbyes as was she and by the time she left us we were all ready to see her released from her suffering.
The weekend of the funeral was especially chaotic for my immediate family as we had planned Caleb's birthday party for the morning of the 19th. As God, the fates, luck and the funeral home would have it that turned out to be the same day as the funeral. Thanks to many wonderful friends I was able to plan and be present for everything necesary in the days leading up to the family events. On Friday the 18th we had visitation from 3pm to 8pm. It was a constant stream of family and friends paying their respects. My grandmother was one of nine children and most of them had a few children of their own. Add in grandchildren and some great-grandchildren and it was a full house all day.
Saturday morning from 10-12 we held Caleb's Thomas the Tank Engine birthday party in our church fellowship. I felt blessed to have with us two of my oldest and dearest friends and their kids and two of my closest new friends as well as a new friend in our neighborhood. The kids all seemed to have a great time, despite the fact that I was about to turn around and attend my grandmother's funeral. For Caleb it was a success because he had the "Thomas cake" that he was expecting for his birthday, for me it was a wonderful, joyous success in the midst of sadness.
So, a few friends watched my kids while Thom and I went back to the funeral home for two more hours of visitation and then the funeral and graveside service. Quite a few of us stayed to watch the men from the funeral home actually lower the casket into the ground and cover it. It was sad, but supremely true. It was one of the truest moments I have ever experienced. While as a Christian I believe that my grandmother's soul, which I will call, her personality - is in heaven with Jesus, her body is most definitely at that specific spot on the earth until Christ returns. Having moved a lot in my life most of my grieving has been over saying goodbye and knowing that life continues on without me in a place and with people I'm leaving behind. Not so with death. She is gone from the places she has always been. Her presence in our lives is gone and left only with a void. She is exactly where she was placed on the day of her funeral -- and at the same time rejoicing with God. A difficult and perplexing thought that easily leads me to understand why God cautioned against communicating with the dead. On the one hand it seems utterly futile and on the other hand they have an enviable perspective that we cannot gain this side of death.
Meanwhile on that Saturday, we came home and got the kids and ate dinner with the rest of the family at a meal that was provided by my grandmother's church. After the meal Mom & Dad, Thom and I, the kids and my brother and sister-in-law all returned to my parents house. We were the epitomy of exhausted. We were literally collapsing in various corners of the house too tired to entertain or even be entertained.
Sunday came with the need to go to church and say some words of thanksgiving to those who had helped me through the week and taken the time to come to the visitation. Sunday was also my sister-in-law's birthday and my brother's birthday had been on the 16th -- the day my grandmother had died. So, we had planned to celebrate on the 20th and celebrate we would. We all gathered at John & Sara's house with gifts and food and smiles and tried our best to relax. John played a great collection of 80s music and all was good, so long as none of us thought about it all very much.
It's been a little over a week since then. We have all spent time trying to get our feet back on the ground -- catching up on laundry, dusting, potty-training, 3rd grade spelling, etc.
I'm exhausted, but recovering.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
Timeless Words
There are moment in conversations we remember for years and years to come. I had one of those moments yesterday. But the story doesn't really start there.
It might start 27 years ago when my brother was born. Or maybe it started about four years ago when a male friend of mine asked how old I was. After nearly dying from embarrassment, and considering the words "Smart enough to sit alone, old enough to know better." a favorite quote of my grandmother's, I opted for the honest truth. "31, I'll be 32 in July." Upon further questioning my friend ultimately answered that he was curious because I was so "young and fun and all." Yep, at the ripe old age of 31, nearly 32, it was some sort of miracle, that I, the mother of a then four-year-old could be considered "young and fun and all." I'm not likely to forget these words anytime soon, but a conversation yesterday sort of served as some kind of karmic restitution for my friend's words.
I was sitting on a patio chair in my brother's back yard, a sort of English garden off the back door of his enormous house when his neighbor stopped by. It was my sister-in-law's birthday and he was there to visit and wish her well. This gentleman is significantly older than my brother and sister-in-law who are now 27 and 26 respectively and they are good friends within the neighborhood. So, you can imagine my surprise when he asked the question, from clear across the table, of birth-order between my brother and I having PRESUMED than John was older!
Ahh!! It was a glorious moment!
Grinning I replied, "Do you really think John is older? Do you know how old John is?" I was clearly assuming the man thought more of John's receding hairline than of his birth certificate. Nope. He knew exactly how old John was! OK- then. Now I'm in the "You're kidding right?" Nope. He genuinely thought I was younger than my brother!!! I politely said. "No, I'm the older sister. In fact, I'm nine years older." He nearly jumped out of his chair! He was shocked! He made a nice comment about my skin and the conversation moved on.
I remember when Thom proposed and when they handed me my babies. Those were the best moments of my life. Yesterday's comment about my age may very well be my next favorite moment!
It might start 27 years ago when my brother was born. Or maybe it started about four years ago when a male friend of mine asked how old I was. After nearly dying from embarrassment, and considering the words "Smart enough to sit alone, old enough to know better." a favorite quote of my grandmother's, I opted for the honest truth. "31, I'll be 32 in July." Upon further questioning my friend ultimately answered that he was curious because I was so "young and fun and all." Yep, at the ripe old age of 31, nearly 32, it was some sort of miracle, that I, the mother of a then four-year-old could be considered "young and fun and all." I'm not likely to forget these words anytime soon, but a conversation yesterday sort of served as some kind of karmic restitution for my friend's words.
I was sitting on a patio chair in my brother's back yard, a sort of English garden off the back door of his enormous house when his neighbor stopped by. It was my sister-in-law's birthday and he was there to visit and wish her well. This gentleman is significantly older than my brother and sister-in-law who are now 27 and 26 respectively and they are good friends within the neighborhood. So, you can imagine my surprise when he asked the question, from clear across the table, of birth-order between my brother and I having PRESUMED than John was older!
Ahh!! It was a glorious moment!
Grinning I replied, "Do you really think John is older? Do you know how old John is?" I was clearly assuming the man thought more of John's receding hairline than of his birth certificate. Nope. He knew exactly how old John was! OK- then. Now I'm in the "You're kidding right?" Nope. He genuinely thought I was younger than my brother!!! I politely said. "No, I'm the older sister. In fact, I'm nine years older." He nearly jumped out of his chair! He was shocked! He made a nice comment about my skin and the conversation moved on.
I remember when Thom proposed and when they handed me my babies. Those were the best moments of my life. Yesterday's comment about my age may very well be my next favorite moment!
Monday, July 14, 2008
The Longest Two Days
On Monday a week ago the hospice nurse told my family that my grandmother had one to two days left. That was a week ago. The nurse has been scheduled to come twice a week on Mondays and Thursdays. Last Thursday she said she was surprised to be visiting my grandmother again, having believed that she would have passed away already. Imagine her surprise at visiting her again this morning.
You can not imagine how long these "two days" have been.
When someone in the medical field has told you that a loved one has two to three months to live, you sort of believe them, but you know that some people die sooner and some live longer. Everyone has heard those stories of people living months, even years, longer than expected and you know that no one knows for sure when it's someone's time to go. The days and weeks go by and you see good days and bad and the illness progresses. When someone says your loved one is down to the last couple of weeks, you understand that the time is short, but you remember that no one knows these things for certain. When someone starts saying it's a day or two, you know they really mean it could happen at any moment, so everyone should be prepared, right? You certainly don't think they're off by a week or more!!
Last week was the longest "day or two" any of us have ever had. It was the weeklong vigil for the coming end that didn't come. By the end of the week we were all running out of words. We've said our "I love yous," our goodbyes, and our plans for how we will make it when she does leave us. Even her pastor came over on Thursday to sort of, well, send her off. Friday morning we thought we were entering the final stage of her borrowed time when SHE told my Aunt to call "the boys" (my dad and uncle) because it was time for her to go. -- her words!! We gathered. We laughed. We cried. We sat in silence watching her breathing for an interminable amount of time, and then, well, nothing. She didn't die. Someone broke the vigil and got up. Someone else went to the bathroom. Eventually my grandmother asked to be moved from the hospital bed to her own bed. OK! Here we go. We all have notions about dying in our own beds, maybe that was what was holding her back. So, we moved her. We cried some more. We prayed. We hugged each other. We waited for her to sleep, to rest, to drift away. She finally fell asleep with my dad reading the Bible to her.
But it still isn't over. She awoke on Saturday. She talked with her daughter about the new shopping district in town. She wanted some coffee. My cousins took her outside onto her patio in her wheel chair. Still not the end yet.
Sunday and Monday brought more sleeping and more painful unrest, but still death waits.
It's been the longest two days.
You can not imagine how long these "two days" have been.
When someone in the medical field has told you that a loved one has two to three months to live, you sort of believe them, but you know that some people die sooner and some live longer. Everyone has heard those stories of people living months, even years, longer than expected and you know that no one knows for sure when it's someone's time to go. The days and weeks go by and you see good days and bad and the illness progresses. When someone says your loved one is down to the last couple of weeks, you understand that the time is short, but you remember that no one knows these things for certain. When someone starts saying it's a day or two, you know they really mean it could happen at any moment, so everyone should be prepared, right? You certainly don't think they're off by a week or more!!
Last week was the longest "day or two" any of us have ever had. It was the weeklong vigil for the coming end that didn't come. By the end of the week we were all running out of words. We've said our "I love yous," our goodbyes, and our plans for how we will make it when she does leave us. Even her pastor came over on Thursday to sort of, well, send her off. Friday morning we thought we were entering the final stage of her borrowed time when SHE told my Aunt to call "the boys" (my dad and uncle) because it was time for her to go. -- her words!! We gathered. We laughed. We cried. We sat in silence watching her breathing for an interminable amount of time, and then, well, nothing. She didn't die. Someone broke the vigil and got up. Someone else went to the bathroom. Eventually my grandmother asked to be moved from the hospital bed to her own bed. OK! Here we go. We all have notions about dying in our own beds, maybe that was what was holding her back. So, we moved her. We cried some more. We prayed. We hugged each other. We waited for her to sleep, to rest, to drift away. She finally fell asleep with my dad reading the Bible to her.
But it still isn't over. She awoke on Saturday. She talked with her daughter about the new shopping district in town. She wanted some coffee. My cousins took her outside onto her patio in her wheel chair. Still not the end yet.
Sunday and Monday brought more sleeping and more painful unrest, but still death waits.
It's been the longest two days.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
It Really Is Raining Today
I awoke this morning around 7am to the sound of rain crashing into the side of our house. It was a terrible and beautiful sound. The powerful crackle of thunder and the torrential downpour were a welcome sound this morning. My last thoughts last night had been of my grandmother and of the need to wake early and water my garden. One of my great aunts had mumbled something yesterday about watering in the morning rather than in the evening and my plan was to heed her wisdom. So, the thought of God watering the grass and the vegetables for me was a welcomed "Good morning."
These last few weeks have been full and wonderful and terrible. Despite any of the daily successes in our little lives the looming knowledge that my grandmother is still with us yet mostly gone and certainly going has been the dark cloud on the horizon, the looming knowledge that our party could be rained out at any moment.
Last week was especially like this. My aunt and my grandmother on my mom's side came down from Indiana to spend the week with us. A few days before their arrival my grandmother here took a turn for the worse. Sunday a week ago we thought we were going to lose her. The family gathered and she pulled through. She is bed-ridden now, on oxygen and mostly non-responsive. Each day since then has been progressively worse. While my aunt and grandmother were visiting we tried to focus on the celebrations we had planned -- a surprise 50th party for my aunt, my own birthday, 4th of July and seeing Kara off to spend a week in Indiana with them--her own private summer vacation. All the while, the knowledge of my grandmother's worsening condition loomed heavy on everyone's hearts.
On Monday of the this week the hospice nurse came. She performed all of the requisite medical tasks and concluded that my grandmother has maybe a day or two left. That was Monday. This is Wednesday. Her breathing is shallow. Her body is jaundiced. She sleeps, a lot. The family gathered yesterday and will likely gather again today. It is uncomfortable and quiet. The sound of the oxygen machine. The look of the living room with the hospital bed where the couch used to be. Everyone watching and listening comfortable with the deep, congested snoring, nervous when she skips a breath. Cousins. Aunts. Uncles. Great aunts. Women gathering around her bedside holding her hand. Men silently supporting their wives on lounge chairs in front of the TV and on lawn chairs in the garage. The sons sitting with their mother and assuring her that she has raised them well. The family vigil, a cultural phenomenon. Intended as comfort, yet uncomfortable at best.
Today is Wednesday. It's been two days since the nurse said it would be two days and it's raining this morning.
These last few weeks have been full and wonderful and terrible. Despite any of the daily successes in our little lives the looming knowledge that my grandmother is still with us yet mostly gone and certainly going has been the dark cloud on the horizon, the looming knowledge that our party could be rained out at any moment.
Last week was especially like this. My aunt and my grandmother on my mom's side came down from Indiana to spend the week with us. A few days before their arrival my grandmother here took a turn for the worse. Sunday a week ago we thought we were going to lose her. The family gathered and she pulled through. She is bed-ridden now, on oxygen and mostly non-responsive. Each day since then has been progressively worse. While my aunt and grandmother were visiting we tried to focus on the celebrations we had planned -- a surprise 50th party for my aunt, my own birthday, 4th of July and seeing Kara off to spend a week in Indiana with them--her own private summer vacation. All the while, the knowledge of my grandmother's worsening condition loomed heavy on everyone's hearts.
On Monday of the this week the hospice nurse came. She performed all of the requisite medical tasks and concluded that my grandmother has maybe a day or two left. That was Monday. This is Wednesday. Her breathing is shallow. Her body is jaundiced. She sleeps, a lot. The family gathered yesterday and will likely gather again today. It is uncomfortable and quiet. The sound of the oxygen machine. The look of the living room with the hospital bed where the couch used to be. Everyone watching and listening comfortable with the deep, congested snoring, nervous when she skips a breath. Cousins. Aunts. Uncles. Great aunts. Women gathering around her bedside holding her hand. Men silently supporting their wives on lounge chairs in front of the TV and on lawn chairs in the garage. The sons sitting with their mother and assuring her that she has raised them well. The family vigil, a cultural phenomenon. Intended as comfort, yet uncomfortable at best.
Today is Wednesday. It's been two days since the nurse said it would be two days and it's raining this morning.
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