REMEMBERING GRAM (1898-2000)

              You are warmly invited to share some special memories of a time I cherish in my life. Offering this journal to be read by others is an act of openness. This desire to share these moments is out of my character. I am more comfortable with privacy and disappearing into the crowd. I am not one to willingly step out into the spotlight, but the spotlight is where this story belongs.

            The focus of this book is on the relationship between my grandmother and me during the last five years of her 102-year life. What makes this so special is the fact that I was working in a nursing home when she needed to live in one.

               When I first put pen to paper, it was to help myself through that emotionally challenging time. Where it would go; I did not know. It is now several years later, in your hands for your eyes to see and hearts to feel. Enjoy these five years of my life, just as I did.

I have spent a lot of time with people of all ages. I often say that I have worked from cradle to grave. The needs of the young and old are not very different. What is different are the words we use. Strollers become wheelchairs, cribs become beds with side rails and bumper pads, diapers become undergarments, and baby food becomes ‘soft’ or pureed. If we live long enough, we go out the same way we came in: bald and toothless.

Only someone who has signed a ‘do not resuscitate’ order can truly understand the range of emotions involved. Part of me felt like I had given my grandmother permission to die. Another part felt that when God calls her home, we shouldn’t interfere. This is an enormous responsibility. This is life and death. I was honored that gram trusted me enough to make this decision for her. This decision had been made out of love for her. Every decision I made for my grandmother, I had her best interests at heart. A ‘do not resuscitate’ order only refers to resuscitation following episodes of shortness of breath and heart attacks. A person can actively be in the stages of death for several days. Could I deal with that? I prayed that when God called her home it will be peacefully in her sleep. Hopefully, a peaceful passing and happy reunion with her past loved ones.

I knew each moment was a gift from God, and must be cherished. That was one reason why I started writing them down. They must never be forgotten. My family does not know that I wrote this book and I do not plan on telling them. Where were all those people? Where is this big family? Why was I alone! I felt like I was riding on an emotional rollercoaster. I am the one who watched my grandmother live out her remaining years. I am the one who watched her mood swings and confusion. I am the one who held her hand when she was scared. I am the one who walked into her room every day not knowing what I was to face. 

I knew that God was in charge. God had the master plan, the details of which I don’t know. I leaned on my faith and trusted what I didn’t understand. I stood alone and had the faith to walk forward. I knew in my heart and soul that it was God that was responsible for her, and would get her through this.