Grandma
Its been just over a week since my grandmother passed away. She had a bad heart, diabetes, calcified plaque in her major arteries. The last three and a half months she has been in and out of the hospital multiple times due to heart attacks and related problems. Maybe I just have a natural instinct when it comes time to tell when someone has come to the end of their life or maybe it is just common sense. Maybe its just my willingness to accept life at face value for what it is.
I wish I could say I feel a loss in my life, that I miss her, that I want to cry, but I don’t feel any of those things. If anything I feel relieved that she isn’t suffering anymore. Up until the last couple weeks of her death I don’t think that she was in agonizing pain, but I may be wrong on that. I do believe that she was going through allot of emotional pain. The pain and emotion of not being able to take care of a man she had never planned on taking care of in the first place. I know that this sounds odd. But she had expected my grandfather to out live her. That he would be taking care of her up to the point where it was time for her to pass on. But life didn’t work out that way. My grandfather ended up going first. He ended up with Alzheimer’s and needed constant care up until the point of his death. Care that she could not give him because her body was worn and tied.
This caused her a great deal of emotional pain, to see someone she loved in need and not being able to take care of him. She was dealing with the emotional pain of living in a body that no longer served her. She was an independent woman who enjoyed the freedom of fixing her own meals, making a pot of tea, talking on the phone, and playing games on her computer. She enjoyed serving others, being able to help them when they needed help, making afghans, working crossword puzzles, and fixing them meals. She enjoyed being able to go out with her friends, taking trips in the car, and spending time with her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. Not being able to do these things on her own terms caused her a great deal of stress, frustration and emotional pain. I don’t think it matters if you are 5, 12, 30 or 84 if your body no longer serves you it becomes your prison and you stop being you. Her body had just reached that point. It couldn’t be fixed, it had served its purpose and she was tired of fighting it, she was ready to move on.
Grandma’s biggest fear was that she would die alone in someplace like a hospital or nursing home. I understand that fear. Its the fear of the unknown and no one wants to face the unknown by their self. Its the fear a child faces when put on a bus for the first time by their parents to go to school. Its the fear the parent feels placing their child on that bus the first time knowing that they can’t be there with them, to hold their hand and let them know that everything is going to be okay. Basically Grandma had to get on that bus and we could only hold her hand until it was time for her to board.
I’m not upset she had to get on the bus, I’m just sorry she had such a rough walk from the house to the bus stop. She had a good stay when she was here. She made allot of friends, got married twice, was blessed with three children that truly loved her, and tons of grandchildren and great grandchildren who adored her. She touched many lives. I think that when that bus finally gets her to where ever its going to take her she’s going to be greeted by a whole bunch of people who have been waiting a long time to see her.
So long Grandma, have a good trip
