I must warn you, I will not speak in past tense unless it was many years in the past. Rather, I will not speak about my grandma in the past tense. It is not denial, it is merely because it will always feel like she is here as she has always been. You'll find out a little bit more of why later.
She was the last biological grandparent I have. My favorite grandma, I will not even defend that I have a favorite, the choice was always clear. You may recall a post about my fraternal grandma here. She was always incredibly pleasant to be around, always just happy to be in our presence. Ours, as in us grandkids. She may not have been the best mother to my mom and her siblings in the early years, which has been forgiven, but she was always that grandma that you want to have. She remarried a few times in her life, but she landed on a man I call grandpa. He was there even before I was born, and will always be my grandpa. He is all that is left now.
Grandma had a wonderful smile. She had a stroke when I was young, leaving her disabled and with aphasia. She always had a hard time speaking but in the last couple of years it got worse. She hardly spoke this year but I would love to hear her voice again. But her smile, was something she could always do with little effort. She has this childlike demeanor, pure happiness in the presence of family. Even if things were hard for her, she still enjoyed our phone calls, our holiday traditions, which despite my parents divorce, I always spent time at her house. Her house, is where she died. In her sleep, actually. Thankfully. In recent years we also discovered that despite her aphasia, she could sing with little disruptions, she also really loved to dance, even if it was a little swinging of the arms in her chair.
Just last week, hospice was needed and put into place, but she had not yet been placed there. Earlier this week, she was coherent enough to let my aunt know that she knew it was her time to go.
Today, Thursday, I woke up to two phone calls from my mom. My mom is very aware of my schedule and when I'm awake, she is usually very hesitant to call me unless she knows I'm available. I already knew, I finally got a hold of her when I woke up. She asked me how I was doing. I said fine and cut to the chase, "What happened?" "Grandma died". So I took off work, with no questioning it and went straight to my grandma's without asking further questions. All I knew is she was still there and I was able to see her before the mortuary picked her up. At first I was strong and wanted first and foremost to know how my mom was doing. She was the first person I was worried about. Once I quickly got off the phone with her I called my cousin that I work for [she is on my dad's side of the family]. As soon as I spoke to her and told her, I started to cry. She said she was so sorry, twice. I brushed it off and just wanted to go and see my family.
I spent half the day with my family, helping them get things in order, grieving, crying, laughing and sharing memories. I kept my dinner plans with a good friend who herself has been mourning the death of her husband for nearly a year now. She said sorry too.
I realized, now just as I arrived home that I felt utterly weird when they said sorry. Because, I think, I'm not sorry. I had a grandma that anyone would ask for. I'm not sorry for her life. Not sorry for her death. I'm sad, definitely. But not sorry. I'm worried, and have a lot of questions for my remaining family for what is next, but now is not the time to determine those answers. We must grieve first. But most of all celebrate a life. We all mutually agreed that there would be no service and we will have a very personal gathering of family in her honor in the near future. Just as she would like if she were still here.
This is a woman that has been through more than I even know. She survived a stroke. Survived the death of her wonderful parents. Survived breast cancer. Survived both broken hips and all the other medical mishaps, downfalls, and rehab. She has come this far, 78 years old.
I am happy for many reasons that this happened now. But I am very sad. The thing that makes me the saddest is that she will never meet her first great grandchild that is due this September. I am very grateful I had the flexibility at work to come see her and my family, very grateful that my cousin, who is expecting his child was able to come too. Together we grieved. Before they took her away, my grandpa called my cousin into the room. I thought he was going to help them lift her, but actually grandpa asked him to tell grandma the name of his daughter. The name has been planned to be revealed to us at her birth. So that was a wonderful request and a big blow all the same. I haven't seen my cousin cry very much in our life. It was hard, but I'm glad we shared it together. So grandma knows now. The rest of us will wait, and we will raise her in the memory of an amazing woman.
I'm glad, because it happened now, not later. Granted we thought we had more time, but isn't that always the case. I'm glad it happened now rather than later, when she hadn't lost all of her personality and mind. Dementia was starting, her body was going. Now was better. And she still looked the same. I will never forget her face. That smile.
My biggest pressing concern is still my mom. My mom felt she was responsible for or for accelerating her death. It's just not true. And I'm glad the police officer that arrived before us was able to comfort her, but still she says she's not sure in her heart if she is not at fault. My grandma has sustained a lot of injuries in her care, whether from accidents of her own or from family. It's normal when you take care of people that cannot do much for themselves. I know this, being a caregiver myself. Everyday for the last 4 years, my mom has been helping care for her. Each year she has declined. I just really hope my mom can cope. She's doing far better than I expected, but it's only the beginning. It will be hard, there will be a lot of adjusting. There will be freedom now for the relatives that cared for her, but also grief.
My great grandma died when I was young, but I remember it fairly well. Her husband died when I was really young and only remember very little, but great things. She was just as pleasant, and even more so than my grandma. The funeral was pleasant and we celebrated a wonderful woman. In 2003, my grandpa died, my mother's father, and she still has not fully gotten over it. He was my only biological grandpa throughout my life, but he was also an alcoholic and lost his mind well before he died, creating a lot of problems and rifts within the family. I cried at his funeral and that was it. I loved him dearly but he is unfortunately responsible for a great deal of horrors in our family, that changed the path of almost all of us in a negative way. However, there are a lot of great memories of him, but also some very bad ones. This is a big reason I'm glad my grandma has passed now rather than later. There are no hatchets to bury, no disgrace, no ill feelings whatsoever. My fraternal grandfather died before I was born, I never met him. But I also did not hear too many good things about him either. And well, I've written about my fraternal grandma and while I found her death to be a release for many family members, her life and treatment of us wasn't so great.
I tossed and turned last night. I dreamt about my uncle who I visited in Tennessee in May, he was my grandma's only son. I don't remember the dream but I went to bed thinking of his daughter, woke up thinking about his other daughter. When I visited them, I stressed that they need to at least call grandma. She wasn't doing well and we didn't know how much time she had, but likely not enough time until the girls would be able to visit her here in Arizona. I told them that even if she can hardly talk or converse, she could still listen. She always just enjoyed being around us, all they had to do was call. They didn't and I feel slightly responsible not telling them recently how much she has declined and that they really need to reach out. I'm very rational, especially about death. I know that guilt is the first feeling upon a loss. I told one cousin that she need not feel guilty, it's normal, but to focus your energy on all the wonderful memories you have of her. I'm doing the same. I felt bad that I hadn't seen her recently, but then I realized I saw her a couple weeks ago and that made me feel better. I'm worried about my uncle though, he planned to come here in December as he usually does for grandma's birthday, but now he must come sooner.
I'm sadder than I thought I would be. But I'm happy about that because I worried I was getting too detached from her. Not necessarily in relationship, but detached in knowing her time was coming. You never know when, I understand that. I don't feel any regrets necessarily, and the most important thing to me now is to remember her and to be there for my family, on call, for whatever they may need. I feel strong and welcome any emotions I feel. I most hope the same for my mom. I'm well aware that everyone processes death differently. I know there will be bumps, but I have always worried about my mom ever since her father died. I know she was closer to her father and that was an incredibly difficult time, but she had been caring and living with her mother for years now. It's never easy. Mom, don't feel responsible, please, don't.
Before they took her away, I gave her an awkward hug on the bed, purposely representing how our hugs always were. It's a funny thing actually. Ever since her stroke completely disabled her right arm, our hugs have always been kind of weird, and they always made my hearing aids squeak in her ears. Granted my new hearing aids no longer squeak, but the angle of our hugs have always been difficult because of her arm and usually because of position to kneel down to her whether in a wheelchair, the couch, or the bed. So I got my last hug, and I'm grateful for it.
My most recent fondest memory I have with grandma was actually 3 years ago in December. I turned 25 a month prior, she just turned 75 and my aunt turned 50, so we had a big collective birthday party due to those numbers. The first. Grandma's friends from her stroke support group were there, many amazing people, and she was so lively. It was one of the only times we ever had that many people in the house since we were kids.
My grandma wished to be cremated. She wants her ashes spread in El Paso, just as she has done with her mother, and some ashes in California where her husband's parents died. That is something my grandpa will do in the future, I think we also decided that some of her ashes be spread on the tree in her backyard that she dedicated to her mother as well. A tree they planted just after my great grandma was put in a home/hospice, and a tree she never gave up on no matter how long it took to grow. I find it really significant because that house has belonged to my grandparents my whole life, it is where we held so many holidays, so many memories, good and bad. Now, I just worry if that house will stay in possession of my grandpa, I'm not sure yet what will happen.
In our grieving today, I pointed out many significant things, particularly that not a single one of us referred to grandma in the past tense as most people do the instant that a person dies. I actually really appreciated it. Like I said above, it is not denial. Granted, we don't fully feel it, but we already noticed a difference in the house. My family is either religious or spiritual, so I know that they will always speak to her as if she is still there. And I, well, I have this thing...I don't know what to call it and I don't really want to confess it, but I always think of the dead and still feel they are watching. I feel it, not know it. It's just one of those things that has stayed with me over time, no matter the change in my beliefs or what not. It's also a way I pay my respects to the dead, we all have our thing.
So with that, Grandma, I love you ever so dearly. I am forever grateful for having you in my life. I will strive to be a better person now that you are really watching. Keep smiling and singing.
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