For 88 years old, her mind is sharp, her eyes are good and her hearing isn't too bad. However, her body is slowing, her energy is waning and her spirit is tired. And b/c her mind is sharp - she knows all too well that this is the next phase of her life cycle. And although scared and lonely, she is teaching me how handle this phase with certainty, dignity and grace.
The past two visits with my grandma have been extremely emotionally intense. She has me making notes as to who should get what, reviewing obituaries she likes, and last time we even picked out what she'd like to wear for her funeral. (see photo above for a sneak peak) And yet the past two visits of my grandma have been some of my favorite memories. She has served me the food she used to make me when I was little. Lunches of grilled cheese, coke, pringles and pickles have waited for me and she has spoiled me with apple salad and my favorite - rice pudding. We also have talked and laughed and I have listened and tried so hard to retain all the stories she has told me -stories about her childhood, my dad, her mom, my grandpa. Stories I've heard before and can only hope to hear again. Or at least to remember and share.
It's really hard watching someone you love come to terms with the fact that the next few years are going to encompass changes that no one wants to think about. She is talking about what will happen when she can't get in the bath by herself anymore, and what her options are for staying at home or going to a rest home. She is buying furniture b/c it will be helpful if she has a nurse stay at her house, she is making list of things to make sure we do to her house before we sell it. She knows that there are some things that are coming to an end and she is working with me to help make sure that she is in control of the process for as long as she is able. And that's the tricky part for me.
I first met my Grandma Lee in August of '74. I was newborn. She was 51. In the days and years that followed, we grew to be fast friends. She wasn't just my grandma or my babysitter, she was and still is one of my best buddies. I have spent endless weekends at her house being cared for and spoiled and loved. The fall of 2011 finds us at the ages of 37 and 88. My buddy has aged slowly under my nose for years. And in this past year her aging has quickened and now it is my job to make sure she feels cared for - and spoiled - and loved.
When my father passed my mom mourned hard for the first 2-3 years. She missed the security my father had provided. She missed him being her rock, her support. On Friday it will mark seven years since my father has passed, and this is the hardest I've seen my grandma mourning for him. She misses the security he would have been during this phase of her life. In her aging, he was supposed to be her rock - her support. I feel my dad when I'm with my grandma. Sometimes I can see him in her and often I can hear him. I keep telling her that I listen for his voice and guidance and as much as I miss him too, I promise I will try to guide her the way he would have. And I do. And she knows that and she trusts me. She said she never imagined going through this without him, little does she know - neither did I.
We sat around on Saturday talking and she had me reach for a piece of paper with a bunch of names and numbers. At first I thought she wanted me to update her cell phone with numbers, but as she had me read them and she started to tell me who they were and what connection, I realized she had made a list of people for me to notify when she passed. I joked of how it was a small town and she knew everyone so I was certain the word would spread fast. She said she just didn't know many people any more - that all her family and friends has passed. And then she pulled out a box and opened it and said, "all my friends are in this box".The box easily contains 200 funeral cards of people that have passed before her. They were of family and classmates, neighbors, church members, and so many other connections that I couldn't even grasp. She said when she'd get home from a service she'd put the card in a box and one day she realized she knew more people in the box then in real life. We sat and I picked through them asking her about some and reflecting on some of the passings I'd been around for. I asked her if she wanted me to make a display of them at her funeral and she insisted I didn't. But I talked her into letting me organize them for her. There are so many memories and love and laughter and life living in that box, that I just couldn't put them down. The irony to me that day was that I was leaving Gram's house to head to Troy to have dinner with 5 of my friends I've known for 30+ years. My friends and I, as CD's dad says, are in our "building phase". We are talking still of marriages and children and homes and businesses - we still have our people in person form - not in paper.
My gram doesn't have cancer, she doesn't have Alzheimer's, she hasn't had a stroke - and she could very well live for another 12 years or more. But she knows her "life" phase is slowly closing - and that soon others will have to care for her. She sees my Gram H a shell of a person. Non coherent for years and she doesn't want to be stuck in a body that knows no life. She is ready to go home. She wants to see her mom, and her husband, her son and her friends. She is ready and although she says she has no worries there is sadness in her eyes and I know she is 88 years lonely.
The beauty in being a part of her journey is that she is sharing it with me. If she died tomorrow, I would know that she is ok with that, and in turn so would I. We have been blessed to share a complete life together from infancy to aging and to death always loving each other and being buddies but taking turns taking care of each other.
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