Episode 73 - Grace will lead us Home.

As I sit and think back over the near seventy hours we spent with Grandma at the hospital, I can't remember things in chronological order... and sometimes 'order' is over-rated (never say that to Grandma).  I remember saying at one point, "this room is such a mess. If Grandma could see it, she'd have a heart attack."  Interesting the words we use so nonchalantly, isn't it?  Bea would regularly restore order, folding, storing, stacking, pitching. When we needed something, she could tell us where it was.

We had feasts of fast food from Wendys, Taco Bell, Arby's and Casey's Pizza.  No orders placed, just 'runs' with sackfuls of greasy comfort food.  Occasional trips to the cafeteria gave breaks to those who needed it. Hospice had given us some gift cards to be used there.

Nurses rock. I imagine doctors do too - but when it comes to dying, I'll take a nurse. The doctor assigned to Grandma came by once.  He was there a few minutes and said it wouldn't be long (a relative term).  Perhaps he didn't come back because he thought she wouldn't be there anymore.  It bothered the boys. It didn't phase me. What was there for him to do? Nurses, on the other hand, were invaluable. They came bearing drugs of pain relief. They asked frequently what they could do for us, for Grandma. They offered information about how we might know the end was nearing... and admitted they'd been surprised by more than one patient who would die before signs appeared or lasted long after.  The nurses always called Grandma by name when they came to help her. She was still worthy of their respect. I love nurses.

Hospice... what a wonderful word.  I have friends who have worked for them... our DIL in Kentucky is a Hospice Chaplain... DH's Dad was in their care in the last months of his life. It was such a blessing to our family during the time we were standing watch with Grandma. Food carts, meal tickets, puzzle books and playing cards... friendly, helpful volunteers who sat down and visited.  Social workers who listened and wiped a tear when I read her my blog about my Dad.  We had several offers for a chaplain. I respectfully declined each. Pastor Tom was visiting, we had prayer support, we had no doubt where Grandma would be when her spirit left this hospital bed.  Belle's Daddy remarked to me: Mom, they'll think we're atheists.  The idea was laughable. I'm quite sure the sounds of Gospel music emanating from Room 569 pretty much non-stop was evidence of the faith and everlasting hope that was inside its walls.

Ministry of Presence:  The first evening, while still reeling from the day's events - there came a knock at our door. It was my friends Sharon and Sal. Angels of Mercy who came to sit, sing, pray, laugh... distract.  Both had been in my place - letting a parent go into God's Hands. They returned a couple days later with plates of cookies, sacks of pop and Starbucks. They left pledging meals when we got home. So often people stay away from hospitals or the dying thinking a family needs privacy and time alone. I'll go down in print saying we had ample time with one another and with Grandma. We enjoyed the time spent with our friend Randy as he came by - and sat, shared, listened... ministered.  For my friend Gloria, visiting was a challenge.  Grandma's last name escaped her.  I missed her call asking for the room number while she was downstairs but she perseviered.  When I texted her the room number, she returned to the hospital - to see  Grandma and my family...  to take me away to the lounge for a heart to heart.  The Ministry of Presence extended into the technological realm as I got texts from co-workers, emails and Facebook messages. I knew we were in their thoughts and best of all, their prayers.

Music: If you have read more than a couple of these episodes, you know that music is a balm to Grandma heart. She could be having the worst day ever (when living with us) and I'd turn on a recorded Gaither program and within an hour, all would be "well with her soul".  From the ER throughout the hospital stay, Grandma's soul was serenaded... "heaven came down" until the time she was ready to go there. You tend to forget that the last verse of many hymns deal with death. Those verses were sometimes hard to get out without voices cracking - but they were the most important now. We'd get through them and finish strong on the final chorus. I think the singing at first was hard for my kids. They'd been raised around music - though not always hymns. Bea and DH would bring up lyrics on their smartphones... I relied on my memory.  The sound of occasional crying or the sight of my sons wiping away tears didn't bother me.  Grief is real.  We were going to give Grandma the last days and hours that she deserved.  I turned around from my spot close to Grandma, after one song,  to see my DIL from Chicago (who sings like an angel) having a very hard time.  I pointed my (still straight, not arthritic) finger at her and said, "You buck up girl... cuz when I go... you are in charge of the songs."  She smiled through her tears and said, "I will be... I will be."

Circle of Life:  The Bible refers to a human life spanning a period of three score and ten years.  Seventy trips around the Sun.  Eighty if  you are lucky.  Grandma is almost 86. She's been living in the bonus period for quite some time. My Dad died at 69 which probably sounded older to me at the time than it does now.  I know that death is the natural end to physical life.  And the death of our parents (after our grandparents) is the natural order. Grandma's age began to take its toll the past few years both mentally and physically. We knew she would never return to the brilliant, take charge woman she had once been. It is difficult when watching this process, not to imagine your own demise.  How? When? Where will I spend my last years or days?  DH and I have been married five years. We would personally like to leave this world when Jesus raptures the Church. I mean - how cool would that be?  Our (my) second choice would be to die in a plane crash, on the way back from an all-inclusive island vacation ,where we celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary. Fortunately (probably) we don't know those details. But after this experience - I just hope that my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren will be near.  That the floors will be covered with wheeled toys and baby dolls. That cousins will reunite and employers will be understanding and allow time away from their jobs. Mostly I hope that I "go" before any of those born after me. It's the way it should be, but so sadly - not how it always is. My heart breaks for those who must bury their children, grandchildren, or any life cut short.

Family: These past few days have been such a blessing. The first evening we were reconciled to the fact that Grandma would probably not last until T. arrived from AZ.  We were just hoping she'd make it until the son/DIL from Chicago arrived.  Tuesday morning the doctor said it "wouldn't be long" - T.'s plane was scheduled to arrive in Cedar Rapids at 6:50 p.m.  We told Grandma he would be there in a few hours.  I also told her that if she couldn't stay, that she would definitely see him again (in 50 earthly years or so).  We enlisted prayer warriors on Facebook to pray he might arrive in time.  His plane was a half hour early!  When he walked in the room, the family announced his arrival ... T. greeted a semi-sleeping Grandma with his usual "Hi Grandma!" and her mouth and eyes flew open wide. It was likely the last major expression we would see. We sang, we prayed... we told her it was OK to go when she was ready. We would be with her until Jesus came.  (A couple nurses had told us that sometimes the patient waits until they are alone 'to pass').  Uh oh I thought - that won't be happening.  Belle was at the hospital a good amount of time. It's hard with little ones to keep vigil at a hospital. I remembered when my Dad was dying, Belle's Daddy was almost 2. It was hard.  I also recall losing two grandparents within a few weeks when I was 14. CeCe (16) has been wonderfully supportive, both to me and to Grandma. She chose to spend the night on the floor and the entire day following at the hospital, She wanted to be with us when it was Grandma's time. CeCe never left without kissing Grandma goodbye. Our other kids (blended as we are) were in contact with us throughout the vigil. You can't over estimate the powerful impact of family when it is time to let go of a member of it.

My kids are likely tired of hearing me say this one thing over and over this week.  We have been given a GIFT. Not every family has the opportunity to spend the final days and hours with a loved one. Grandma got to see and be touched by each of us. We all got to tell her thank you... that we loved her. We were able to spend time with one another and that happens all too rarely.  T. commented that after I told Grandma it was OK to 'go', he could imagine her saying, "But its so nice to have everyone here together..."  Yes it is. Sometimes our chatter and laughter would get a little loud... sometimes our singing could be heard by those outside our doors... sometimes the quiet (except for the Gaithers) was somber - reflective and sacred.  She wasn't suffering. Her pain was under control. She was preparing for the Presence and we waited with her. We were living Grace.  We were living a Gift.

So ends Episode 73