Smokey Stover 1923-2007
Smokey Stover 1923-2007
Originally uploaded by Irea.I have always been very close with my maternal grandparents. I was their first-born grandchild, and even though the circumstances of my birth caused a conflict with their faith, they've never shown me anything but total unconditional love. My mom and I lived with them from the time I was born until I was about four, and even after my mom and I moved into our own place they would still watch me every day after school while my mom was at work.
Until just a few years ago when they moved to a new house, I've lived within ten miles of my grandparents my whole life. They aren't just "holiday" grandparents - in fact, they aren’t even really like grandparents at all… they're more like second parents to me.
Some of you know that my grandpa has been dying from cancer for quite some time. About six months ago he began hospice care in his own home, and my mom moved in to help my grandma care for him. I really can't say enough about how wonderful hospice is. The ability to be comfortable and cared for during your final days in your own home, with your own family and friends surrounding you is just something you can't put a price on. For my grandpa, the situation was bittersweet. Though he received the best and most tender care, he is a man that really isn't happy unless he can be up and about working in his shop, fishing, or outside in his "garden", which was really a small farm. He LOVED his John Deere tractor. When he first became unable to get around on his own, being stuck in the electric scooter was bad enough for him but at least he could still tool around in his yard - being confined to a hospital bed has been incredibly devastating for him.
His health and body have been visibly deteriorating since October. So many times we were told that he only had two weeks left... four days... fourteen hours. Every holiday was a new goal. We didn't think he'd make it to Thanksgiving. Then we held our collective breath for Christmas. Then New Years. Then his birthday (Jan 2). Then he just wanted to hang on until Valentines Day so he could give grandma one last Valentines Day present. He just kept hanging on despite the prognoses. I really started to think he was going to make it to June and I started to move my focus to preparing for my wedding, which is fast approaching, instead of preparing for his funeral. I really thought he was going to make it.
March 25th was my grandmother's birthday. She awoke to the news that her sister, Bernadine, had passed away that morning. Bern had also been suffering from cancer, so her passing was not completely unexpected, but was still a shock. Grandpa wasn't doing well either. The family all gathered for grandma's birthday, and we all saw grandpa for what turned out to be the last time. My mom and grandma knew this was his last day and they told us as much, but since I'd been hearing the same thing for six months I really didn't believe it.
After midnight my mom whispered to my grandpa that grandma's birthday was over, and that if he needed to go, he could. They sat up with him all night - my mom in the armchair next to his bed (the same chair she'd been sleeping in every night for the past six months) with her hand on his shoulder, and my grandma on the other side of him holding his hand.
My grandpa passed away on March 26th at 4:24am. My grandparents had just celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary last year... their wedding date is 4/24. He loved my grandma more than anything, and we're convinced this was his last "I love you".
My grandma saw a tear on my grandpa's cheek, and my aunt Katy collected it in a vial. We also saved a lock of his hair.
Last Thursday was the viewing and Rosary at the Galt Funeral Home. I gave my grandma and my mom the rosaries I'd planned on giving them at my wedding. After most everyone had gone, the family had a private ceremony where we placed grandpa's John Deere hat on his head, gave him his teddy bear from the hospice ladies (that he slept with all the time), put his prayer blanket on his feet, and a Snickers bar in his pocket.
The Mass and funeral services were held last Friday at St. Christopher's in Galt. It was a beautiful service, and my grandma received many donations to the Church organ fund in my grandpa's name. My grandpa also loved to play the organ (though the obituary in the paper said he loved to play HIS organ - we all got a chuckle out of that).
Monday we buried him with full military honors at Oak Hill Memorial Park in San Jose. He received a rifle salute from the Honor Guard, which would have made him so happy as the Merchant Marines have only recently been made eligible for military honors, and he was a Patriot through and through.
In addition to laying flowers on his coffin, those that wanted to also shoveled a scoop of dirt into his grave (using a memorial shovel that we all signed). Sounds morbid maybe, but you have to know my grandpa - he was a farmer all of his life, and he would have been touched. Maybe if he had his way, we would have even finished the job.
Because they had no way of knowing exactly how much dirt we'd be shoveling, they had to put the vault cap in place first, otherwise there'd be a danger of it not sealing properly with all the dirt. So while we're all still there, in comes the huge backhoe to hoist the cap. Usually this is done after family and friends are gone. I'm sure there were at least a couple of people that were completely horrified - but the only thing *I* could think of when this huge piece of digging equipment rolled onto the scene, was how much my grandpa would have loved it. The only thing that would have made it more perfect is if it had been a John Deere.
After our little dirt ceremony, the backhoe buried his coffin and a lot of us watched. Since it was impossible for any of us to see him into this world, it seemed very appropriate and loving that we should be able to see him out.
I thought I would feel a sense of closure after literally mourning him for six months, but I don't think I've ever been so sad in my entire life. I'm having trouble functioning. I rarely answer my phone. I don't log into IM. I haven't paid bills in months. I haven't done my taxes. I'm sorry to everyone that's written me and hasn't gotten a reply. I really do appreciate all of your thoughts and wishes during this time, but I can't find much strength to communicate with anyone. It took me a week and a half to write this.
I don't know how to end this post. I have a million other things to say about my grandpa, but I just can't find the words right now.
I love you grampa, and I miss you more than I thought possible.
"But I always thought that I'd see you again..."