Missing Grandma

It's been a long month.

The day I wrote that last entry, my Mom was not feeling well. The next day, she was in so much pain that I talked her into calling the doctor - who sent her to the hospital ER. One month ago today, my Mom walked out of her house for the last time, pulling the door shut behind her, and drove with Dad to the hospital.

Dad was the sick one, really. We have been taking care of his cancer, using alternative methods, since last Easter. Mom was still having some issues with her arm which she'd broken in 2007 - she was still having to take pain meds for that - but as much as I rack my brain I can't remember her complaining about anything else.

I wonder how bad the pain had gotten before she complained. I wonder if the meds for her arm were just masking it. What if? What if? What if....???

Once in the hospital, she complained they weren't DOING anything. I actually felt bad at first for talking her into it. They did run some tests, and on Wednesday did a laparoscopy. Everything pointed to nothing major, so I went on to my annual retreat that weekend.

But Monday morning I went up early to catch the doctor and try to find out why we hadn't found anything out yet. That morning is still a blur, I guess it will always be a blur, as I stood at the nurses' station and heard the words "cancer...nothing we can do....call Hospice". In a fog of shock I did what minimally had to be done, calling my brothers. If I recall correctly, which I probably don't, I couldn't do much else but cry.

I was swept back to the ay my Dad was diagnosed in March. Mom and I stood in the hall and wept like children. We vowed to each other that we would do our best to be strong in front of Dad, but that we would make no such effort when together. That was a huge help, really, to be allowed to break down! But this day I was lost. She had always been there to hold me up when I broke down.

The thought crossed my mind that maybe she would get better, like Dad had. But I didn't really think so. For one, the word HOSPICE slapped me in the face. For another, I had only to look at her and how far she had deteriorated in a few days time, even since the day before.

Why she didn't come home till Friday I don't really know. All my brothers came in, her sister came in. What goes through someone's mind when they're in a hospital bed with all the family gathered round? You must just think to yourself "It's the end". I sat with her during the days when the kids were in school. At one point I broke down at her side. She squeezed my hand and said "Oh Kari, it will be all right".

On Friday she was brought to my house. Hospice brought in equipment, a bed, all that stuff. We set up the music room for her. That day she was alert and awake. It was Halloween. She laughed at the kids in their costumes, feigned fright as they jumped from behind the door with fake vampire smiles. It really seemed like she was better.

But she wasn't better. For a week she deteriorated, rallying a bit on Tuesday, A's 15th birthday. She was trying to talk, but couldn't seem to move her tongue. Had she had a stroke? Maybe...probably. She tried so hard, even trying to sing when we sang Happy Birthday in the room. After that day, it was all downhill, with us just trying to control her pain.

She died on Saturday, November 8. Ten days ago.

Mom was my best friend. We spoke to each other almost every day...saw each other often. They had dinner at our house every Sunday, unless they were out of town. This didn't bother my hubby - in fact, it was his idea! Family is important to him, too, and his Mom lives far away. Mom and I had a running joke - every once in awhile she would suggest she was being too in-our-faces and they should hang back for awhile, in order to be a good mother-in-law...I would remind her it was HIS idea, and she would accuse me of not wanting her around. Then we would laugh and go out for coffee.

After Dad got sick I decided there was no time like the present to tell them how I felt about them. So for Mother's Day I wrote a long entry, with pics, in my family blog. I did the same for Dad on Father's Day. Well, Mom was so proud. She printed the whole thing out - I guess it was five pages or so - and carried it around to show people. It is still in her purse right now. I was so glad I had done it - more so now, of course. Anyone reading this - please tell the ones you love how you feel! You never know when it may be too late.....

It's only been 10 days. Only 3 since all the rest of the family and guests have gone away. I don't expect it to be easy right now. But I wonder if there will ever come a day when I don't have sudden tears? Will there ever be a time I can JUST smile at a memory? WIll there be a time when I can wrote something like this and not be blinded by tears as I am right now?

I am a Christian, so I believe I will see her again one day. My grief is for ME, not her...she was almost 82 years old. She and Dad were married almost 49 years. She has 12 grandchildren, 6 of which are mine, and those 6 she saw all the time and was a treasured part of their lives. I miss her, we all miss her, so we grieve - not for her, but for us. We were going to have a shopping day soon. We were going to get pedicures. We were going to take Mary out for ice cream on a "Girls' Day". I know we have to move on. I'm not ready to move on, not ready to write this, yet I felt I had to. She was the best Mom, and the best Grandma.