Well. Been a while, hasn't it?
The last month-and-a-half or so has been both a very blessed and a very trying chunk of time.
On July 1, 2014, my Grandmother stepped over that mysterious line named Death, and left this faded world with it's dusty smudges and smears of what mortals call color, into the One where all the hues are true, rich, pure, vivid, and new, and where the great master Artist uses glory and gold to paint life.
For weeks the dear big house strained good-naturedly to accommodate all it's people. Wonderful memories were made during that time. Such a large number of The Grandparents' descendants had not been together for about thirteen years. Our family loves to visit, and with that many of us here, not knowing when we'd get to all be together again next, we talked and visited and laughed and 'caught up' like we were trying to overtake the lost years, and store up enough of each other to fill the coming ones. We shelled, shucked, cooked, and ate fresh garden produce given by friends, we took long walks, we played games, we sang, we discussed current events and mission adventures. English was the primary language, but there were frequent reminiscent bursts of Spanish, Portuguese, and Guarani, with tid-bits of other languages currently being studied. There were four generations represented, each with it's own layers, and each with it's own way of enjoying and relishing the time to interact with the others.
There were little folks everywhere, playing in the big yard and Trissy's and my old playhouse out back, wandering the countryside, shelling peas, washing the cars parked everywhere, tracking in dirt and leaves, picking flowers, innocently carrying on one-sided conversations with The Grandmother when she was too weak to do anything but smile at them, and generally filling in the tiny spaces of the house that the adults were too big to fit in. One of my favorite memories is of laying on the floor in a corner of the den, sharing one throw pillow with two other little heads, and a blanket with one of the little bodies to take a nap.
Another of my favorites is of the Thursday night before The Grandmother passed away on Tuesday. She was really low that day, and we didn't think she'd make it through the week-end. I had wanted a minute alone with her to 'say' good-bye, but with all the hub-bub, I hadn't had an opportunity. It was dark in the kitchen where her hospital bed was (she'd insisted on being in the middle of the house, where the most activity was and where she could see and talk to everyone, even though the noise must have been almost unbearable for her at times), and she was sleeping. I sat in a chair against the wall, in the dark, just watching. The den was full of folks, the living room too, and it was beginning to be time for the small people to be put to bed. Uncle Alvin's oldest son's wife came quietly through the kitchen on her way from the den to the living room, and saw me there. She stopped and bent down, put her hands on either side of my face, and whispered in my ear, "You are faithful."
The whole situation, the fact that she seemed to understand at a glance what was going on, the sweet simplicity and utter kindness of her words... I loved her for it.
That has become one of my favorite memories of that time, probably of this year, and quite possibly of my life.
All of the living children, most of the 20+ grandchildren, over half of the great-grandchildren, and many of the in-law children and grandchildren were here through the couple of weeks before The Grandmother went Home. She couldn't eat, and could only drink small amounts at a time, but if she wasn't asleep, one of us was always near her or at her side, holding her hand, reading to her, giving her sips of water or Dr. Pepper (all her adult life The Grandmother has been known for her love of Dr. Pepper) in a teaspoon, or simply being there. At one point Saturday, I was the one near her, and offered her some water. She took a little, then said, "Kiss me." As I kissed her cold cheek the thought came to me, "This is the good-bye." I couldn't speak, but I hoped she realized all I wanted to say.
When she said, "Thank you for all you've done," tears came to my eyes, but I was able to make some response without them spilling out.
With all the other eager hands to help and all the other hearts wanting to show their love, I knew I wouldn't get another chance. That was my good-bye, and I was satisfied. I thank the Lord for it.
Sunday, Dad went to Victory Rd. to teach his Sunday School class, and then came straight back. None of us went to church that Sunday, but there was worship in this house!
The owner of the restaurant where I work gave me two weeks off (the last week of June and the first week of July), so, thankfully, I didn't have to go anywhere Monday.
The Grandmother passed away on Tuesday morning, July 1. Uncle Alvin's oldest son slept on a pallet and Uncle David slept on a mattress the last several nights on the kitchen floor beside her bed. The last few days, her breathing was very labored, and when Uncle David quietly woke us up in the hours just before dawn, he said he thought the silence was probably what woke him.
Both The Grandparents' church and Victory Road showed such kindness and love to our family through food, cards, supplies, visits, and prayer, before and after her passing! Aunt Winny did a terrific job running the kitchen and organizing the mountain of food that was brought in by caring friends. People offered their spare bedrooms in case we needed somewhere to 'overflow'. Friend after friend at church or when stopping by to drop something off would say, "If y'all need anything else, or if I can do anything for you,
please let me know."
Since so many of the family members were soon going to be having to go back to their own homes and jobs, and since all who were going to be able to come for the funeral were already here, we decided to not put it off. Wednesday evening was the wake, and Thursday afternoon was the funeral. One of the tech-savvy cousins made up a slide show of pictures of The Grandmother's life, that played at both, and it turned out really nice.
More distant family members came, and many many dear friends drove long distances to be there.
I've never been to a funeral where the deceased person was not a believer in Christ, but even so, my grandmother's funeral was quite possibly the happiest, most joyful, most peaceful one I've ever been to. Even beforehand, when we were all bustling about getting ready, it felt more like we were getting ready for a wedding than a funeral! Several others later commented that they'd felt the same thing. The peace and joy of the Lord was definitely there.
We will miss her -
oh how we will miss her! - but we will see her again one day. This separation is only temporary.
After the funeral, the church family blessed us again by providing a meal for the family and any friends from far off who were staying around for a little while. That was a great afternoon of fellowship and relaxation at the church, which continued into the evening after most of the friends had gone, and those that stayed had come back to the house with us.
Friday, those of the family from out of state began heading home, and by the next week, most everyone was gone.
Uncle Alvin's family and Uncle David's family have been in and out visiting as they can, but it's still been very very quiet around here.
Dad, Mom, Trissy and I moved in here with The Grandfather. We've actually pretty much been living here since The Grandmother got sick and was unable to care for them like she had been, but we still often went back to our house at night, or took turns, one or two of us staying and the others going back to the house. But we had no idea she would go so fast. And since our house and animals and possessions are so close - right down the road - the transition hasn't been very smooth. We still haven't 'officially' moved in. In fact, I think we are still subconsciously in 'visitor' mode. It's just so hard to mentally grasp the fact that The Grandmother isn't coming back.
I never cried much during all those weeks of her being sick, or at the funeral, or anything like that. I talked myself out of it.
It's been
since.
Since I glimpse a little white figurine of a child sitting in a chair on the mantle and make a mental note to ask The Grandmother to re-tell me the story behind that figurine. It held special significance, but I can't remember the story. And then, 'Oh, right, I can't ask her.'
Since I need a strip of elastic for a project and catch myself almost asking Mom, "Do you think The Grandmother would mind if I used some from her sewing stash?"
Since I unload the dishwasher and find myself starting to line up the silverware how she always asked us to, so that she won't come along and find the job done wrong. Oh, wait, she won't.
Since I dig through a drawer in the bathroom looking for some antibiotic ointment and come across three bottles of the shimmery pale pink nail polish she liked so much.
Since I can't find the Gospel Music show for The Grandfather that he likes to watch, and almost call to The Grandmother in the other room, asking her what channel it comes on.
Since I get hungry for cream puffs and make a mental note to remind The Grandmother that she was going to teach us how to make those.
Since I got out the neopolitan ice cream out of the freezer and subconsciously give The Grandfather the chocolate since The Grandmother doesn't particularly care for it.
Since The Grandfather's electric razor falls apart and I start to go find The Grandmother to ask her how it goes back together.
Since this morning when Trissy was in the other room singing a hymn as she got ready for church, and I heard in my head The Grandmother playing that song with all the fancy trills she'd add on the piano.
Since.
Those are the times when I'm glad I'm alone, and I put down my head, and the tears flow.
I miss her so, so much. Yes, I [we] have the blessed hope of the Christian life - that existence here on earth is but for a short time, and that then
eternity will be spent in happiness with who we love; with Christ and with those who have loved Him. Yet, humanly, this existence here on earth is
so hard with it's loss and it's hurts. And sometimes, all that's immediately visible is the hurt. Like in winter, you know the sweet summer breeze exists and is coming, but for now all you feel are your cold hands, and that's what you focus on.
I've never lost someone so close to me to death before. I've 'lost' friends through separation and moves and life changes, but they're still out there, somewhere. If I dig hard enough, I could probably still find them. But The Grandmother is gone, and I cannot follow her yet.
So the care of the dear Grandfather is ours alone now. Sometimes my heart aches for him. Sometimes he forgets she's gone and we have to remind him, or he'll ask about her, then catch himself, stop, and just shake his head. He loves music, and we try to either have Pandora, one of their many Gaither videos or DVDs, or some other form of music on almost constantly. He loves to hear Trissy practice her guitar. His eyesight is too poor for him to read, and he can't get up out of his chair, so pretty much his only forms of entertainment are the music or TV, if we don't have visitors. He loves to just have people around, making noise, and visiting, but of course that's not constant. We try not to have the TV on too much, so keeping his mind alert and entertained sometimes presents something of a creative challenge. If anyone out there is a care-giver and has ideas, please let us know!
Another challenge, is that Dad of course has a full-time job, Trissy is soon to start back to college, and I've quit the restaurant and am starting tomorrow as full-time secretary at the Christian academy, besides continuing to do two days of after-care per week. Mom would be alone with The Grandfather all that time the other three of us are gone, and she physically cannot care for him by herself.
So the woman helper who, before The Grandmother's passing, came in to help care for The Grandfather, cook, clean, and do other things for them as she was needed, is going to be having to come more often and stay longer when she comes, just in case Mom would need her. But that costs money, and since we live here now and are perfectly able to do all the cooking, cleaning, etc., the woman is basically here just in case of emergency. We don't have anything against her personally, but she does seem to enjoy giving her opinion, and sometimes that's challenging when you already have your own way of doing things in your own house, so to speak.
Even though it's been well over a month, we are still trying to accept, trying to work the kinks out of, and trying to adjust to our 'new normal'.
And I've only mentioned the new normal of our
home life! It's just been a very topsy-turvey year so far.
And to think that in January I commented to Trissy, 'After all the ups and downs of the last year-and-a-half (mid-2012 through 2013), I'm looking forward to 2014. Hopefully it'll be a 'rest' year.'
