(no subject)
What has happened to my journal? I don't know why I keep this up because, chances are, it will be deleted three months down the road.
I don't even remember the last time I updated. So much has happened.
On March 20, my grandmother passed away. I was at work on the 19 when I got a call from my mom to call grandma (she was in the special care unit), so I did. Grandma seemed groggy but was still grandma. I don't know why, but I called Mark immediately afterwards and told him that I needed to go up there. He picked me up from work and I was in the middle of packing an overnight bag, when my sister, Shelly, called and said she was going up, too -- would I mind riding with her because she could use the company (she lives in Dayton and passes my exit on the boring ride up I-71). So, I waited for Shell and Mason drew a picture for his great grandma. It was a picture of a blue jay (for my grandfather -- he loved them and his name was Jay) and a cardinal (grandma's favorite bird) in a tree. Shell picked me up and we made our way up to Wadsworth. We kept calling Mom to see how Grandma was, but she wasn't giving us answers. We knew that our uncle was flying in from Florida the next morning.
We got there a little after 8:00. My mom and my aunt's family were there. Shelly couldn't go into the room right away because seeing Grandma like that really affected her. I went right in and grabbed her hand. I showed her Mason's picture and she turned to me and said, "Kris." She never, ever called me Kristen. Always Kris. I said, "Yeah, Grandma, I'm here now." Shortly after that, she slipped into a coma. Her breathing was so labored.
Shelly and I spent the night along with my mom and aunt. We cried a lot, but then we told Grandma stories. We had three loungers, so we tried to sleep. Shelly got stuck in a regular chair. Mom, Shell, and I maybe got two hours of sleep. My aunt got the best lounger and probably slept four. All through the night, I held my grandmother's right hand, rubbing it the way she always did mine when I was in the hospital.
Early on Monday, her heart specialist came in. He told us that the medicine she was on was keeping her alive because it was regulating her heart rate. She was quickly approaching the end of the bag -- did we want to make up a new batch? My mom and aunt decided not to. As much as we tried to keep my grandmother alive until my uncle flew in, we knew that she wouldn't have wanted it. Then, her regular doctor came in and checked her and took my mom and aunt into the hallway. When they came back in the room, they were crying. The end was near.
When Grandma passed, I was holding her right hand still. I expected one big gasp of air or something, like they show in the movies. But, it wasn't like that. She just stopped breathing. No head rolling. Nothing dramatic. I continued to hold her hand and, I swear, one second it was warm and then the next, it just wasn't. Her hand wasn't cold... it just wasn't the same.
We went back to Mom's to take showers and eat some lunch. My mom and aunt drove up to the airport to pick up my uncle. My cousin, Nick, came over. Shelly and I watched the news and saw that a huge ice storm was heading that way, so we decided to leave then (we were going to leave later that night).
I returned back to Mom's on Wednesday, alone. I just couldn't stay at home and cry. At least at Mom's, I could be the taxi cab for all of our relatives flying in from all over the globe. I was so excited to see my sister, Jill, who flew in from Houston. We did the usual obnoxious stuff my family always does when we get together -- we played cards and drank. Only this time, Grandma wasn't with us. Mom got mad because we got out all of the old pictures and went through them, making a mess in her living room when all sorts of neighbors, family, and friends were stopping in to drop off food. Shelly's family came back up on Thursday night and Mark and Mason came up on Friday (Mason missed a half-day of school).
The calling hours were on Friday for three hours. The funeral home made a photo cd of her life. It was truly beautiful. All of grandma's cousins and friends that came threw the line knew everyone of my sisters, cousins, and I. They knew where we lived, where we worked, and all of our accomplishments. It really opened all of our eyes to how much Grandma talked about us. That night, I rewrote the eulogy I was to give the next day. While the rest of my family told stories and laughed, I was in Grandma's room (an addition we added to my Mom's house), crying my eyes out as I wrote.
On Saturday, we all got ready for the funeral. My cousin, Rachelle, read a beautiful poem and I read the eulogy. I couldn't walk up to the pulpit, so they gave me a portable mike and I started crying immediately as I began. I got threw it and looked up. Everyone in the church was crying, also.
At the cemetery, Mark and I stayed on the road instead of going into the seating area because it was quite muddy. Everyone else was covered by the velvet "tent" from the funeral. As the minister said a final prayer, I swear the clouds parted and the sun finally started to shine.
My grandmother was such a strong woman. And so strong-willed, too! We would always butt heads because we were so much alike. Every time I was in the hospital, Grandma was always there, keeping me company and making me write thank you notes! She gave so much to help raise my sisters and me. She loved my son with all of her heart. I can't believe it's been almost a month since I last saw her. I miss you, Grandma!
My mom has said that she wishes my sister and I didn't have to see Grandma like that. But this weekend, as we spent Easter Sunday together, I told her how grateful I was that I could be there for Grandma like she had always been with me. I then reminded Mom that, over the last ten years, the roles had changed and I had been there for my grandmother threw every hospital visit. I was the one who raced home when my grandparents' house had caught on fire and spent the entire weekend going through all of their ash-covered possessions. I was the first one to make it home when my grandfather passed away, and held her as she fell apart at the funeral home after they had made the arrangements. I was the one who yelled at her doctor the day after her husband had just died because he wanted to admit her to the hospital because he hip was very fragile. Yes, it was very hard seeing Grandma like that... but holding her hand as she went to meet Grandpa again was wanted I wanted to do. I will always be glad I was there for her like she was always there for me.
The following week, but Mason and my Mom were on Spring Break. We had planned to spend Spring Break at Mom's because Mark had a weeklong business trip to Tempe. Jill didn't fly out until that Monday. On Sunday night, after Mark and Shelly's family left, Jill and I went through some of Grandma's things. We found her old Christmas letters that she had sent to family and friends. Her children never received them, so we had no idea what she wrote about. The ones from 1981 and 1983 were the hardest for me to read. She spoke of my car accident and how helpless she felt. She spoke of how my doctors gave me little hope to walk and how they couldn't say what had caused my odd paralysis. I thought I had cried out all of my tears, but reading those letters brought on a new wave of crying (as has writing this!). Reading those letters really made me aware about how much my grandmother loved me and how devastated she was when I had my car accident. She was such a strong woman, but in her letters, she sounded so fragile and hurt.
Now, my mom lives alone again. I'm very concerned about her because I know she is lonely. She came down here this weekend and we got to talk, watch movies, and power shop. She got to play with Mason's new puppy. It was nice seeing my Mom, but I can tell she is heartbroken. I pray that my Mom will find some of my Grandmother's strength to make it through this.
I don't even remember the last time I updated. So much has happened.
On March 20, my grandmother passed away. I was at work on the 19 when I got a call from my mom to call grandma (she was in the special care unit), so I did. Grandma seemed groggy but was still grandma. I don't know why, but I called Mark immediately afterwards and told him that I needed to go up there. He picked me up from work and I was in the middle of packing an overnight bag, when my sister, Shelly, called and said she was going up, too -- would I mind riding with her because she could use the company (she lives in Dayton and passes my exit on the boring ride up I-71). So, I waited for Shell and Mason drew a picture for his great grandma. It was a picture of a blue jay (for my grandfather -- he loved them and his name was Jay) and a cardinal (grandma's favorite bird) in a tree. Shell picked me up and we made our way up to Wadsworth. We kept calling Mom to see how Grandma was, but she wasn't giving us answers. We knew that our uncle was flying in from Florida the next morning.
We got there a little after 8:00. My mom and my aunt's family were there. Shelly couldn't go into the room right away because seeing Grandma like that really affected her. I went right in and grabbed her hand. I showed her Mason's picture and she turned to me and said, "Kris." She never, ever called me Kristen. Always Kris. I said, "Yeah, Grandma, I'm here now." Shortly after that, she slipped into a coma. Her breathing was so labored.
Shelly and I spent the night along with my mom and aunt. We cried a lot, but then we told Grandma stories. We had three loungers, so we tried to sleep. Shelly got stuck in a regular chair. Mom, Shell, and I maybe got two hours of sleep. My aunt got the best lounger and probably slept four. All through the night, I held my grandmother's right hand, rubbing it the way she always did mine when I was in the hospital.
Early on Monday, her heart specialist came in. He told us that the medicine she was on was keeping her alive because it was regulating her heart rate. She was quickly approaching the end of the bag -- did we want to make up a new batch? My mom and aunt decided not to. As much as we tried to keep my grandmother alive until my uncle flew in, we knew that she wouldn't have wanted it. Then, her regular doctor came in and checked her and took my mom and aunt into the hallway. When they came back in the room, they were crying. The end was near.
When Grandma passed, I was holding her right hand still. I expected one big gasp of air or something, like they show in the movies. But, it wasn't like that. She just stopped breathing. No head rolling. Nothing dramatic. I continued to hold her hand and, I swear, one second it was warm and then the next, it just wasn't. Her hand wasn't cold... it just wasn't the same.
We went back to Mom's to take showers and eat some lunch. My mom and aunt drove up to the airport to pick up my uncle. My cousin, Nick, came over. Shelly and I watched the news and saw that a huge ice storm was heading that way, so we decided to leave then (we were going to leave later that night).
I returned back to Mom's on Wednesday, alone. I just couldn't stay at home and cry. At least at Mom's, I could be the taxi cab for all of our relatives flying in from all over the globe. I was so excited to see my sister, Jill, who flew in from Houston. We did the usual obnoxious stuff my family always does when we get together -- we played cards and drank. Only this time, Grandma wasn't with us. Mom got mad because we got out all of the old pictures and went through them, making a mess in her living room when all sorts of neighbors, family, and friends were stopping in to drop off food. Shelly's family came back up on Thursday night and Mark and Mason came up on Friday (Mason missed a half-day of school).
The calling hours were on Friday for three hours. The funeral home made a photo cd of her life. It was truly beautiful. All of grandma's cousins and friends that came threw the line knew everyone of my sisters, cousins, and I. They knew where we lived, where we worked, and all of our accomplishments. It really opened all of our eyes to how much Grandma talked about us. That night, I rewrote the eulogy I was to give the next day. While the rest of my family told stories and laughed, I was in Grandma's room (an addition we added to my Mom's house), crying my eyes out as I wrote.
On Saturday, we all got ready for the funeral. My cousin, Rachelle, read a beautiful poem and I read the eulogy. I couldn't walk up to the pulpit, so they gave me a portable mike and I started crying immediately as I began. I got threw it and looked up. Everyone in the church was crying, also.
At the cemetery, Mark and I stayed on the road instead of going into the seating area because it was quite muddy. Everyone else was covered by the velvet "tent" from the funeral. As the minister said a final prayer, I swear the clouds parted and the sun finally started to shine.
My grandmother was such a strong woman. And so strong-willed, too! We would always butt heads because we were so much alike. Every time I was in the hospital, Grandma was always there, keeping me company and making me write thank you notes! She gave so much to help raise my sisters and me. She loved my son with all of her heart. I can't believe it's been almost a month since I last saw her. I miss you, Grandma!
My mom has said that she wishes my sister and I didn't have to see Grandma like that. But this weekend, as we spent Easter Sunday together, I told her how grateful I was that I could be there for Grandma like she had always been with me. I then reminded Mom that, over the last ten years, the roles had changed and I had been there for my grandmother threw every hospital visit. I was the one who raced home when my grandparents' house had caught on fire and spent the entire weekend going through all of their ash-covered possessions. I was the first one to make it home when my grandfather passed away, and held her as she fell apart at the funeral home after they had made the arrangements. I was the one who yelled at her doctor the day after her husband had just died because he wanted to admit her to the hospital because he hip was very fragile. Yes, it was very hard seeing Grandma like that... but holding her hand as she went to meet Grandpa again was wanted I wanted to do. I will always be glad I was there for her like she was always there for me.
The following week, but Mason and my Mom were on Spring Break. We had planned to spend Spring Break at Mom's because Mark had a weeklong business trip to Tempe. Jill didn't fly out until that Monday. On Sunday night, after Mark and Shelly's family left, Jill and I went through some of Grandma's things. We found her old Christmas letters that she had sent to family and friends. Her children never received them, so we had no idea what she wrote about. The ones from 1981 and 1983 were the hardest for me to read. She spoke of my car accident and how helpless she felt. She spoke of how my doctors gave me little hope to walk and how they couldn't say what had caused my odd paralysis. I thought I had cried out all of my tears, but reading those letters brought on a new wave of crying (as has writing this!). Reading those letters really made me aware about how much my grandmother loved me and how devastated she was when I had my car accident. She was such a strong woman, but in her letters, she sounded so fragile and hurt.
Now, my mom lives alone again. I'm very concerned about her because I know she is lonely. She came down here this weekend and we got to talk, watch movies, and power shop. She got to play with Mason's new puppy. It was nice seeing my Mom, but I can tell she is heartbroken. I pray that my Mom will find some of my Grandmother's strength to make it through this.