MaMa

I'm mainly doing this blog so that my children will be able to read back at all the crazy stuff we did. I don't like forgetting all the good stuff. However, this is just as good a place for me to record memories of other people so they can know about them too.

My grandmother passed away on Friday, December 21, 2007 in her home in her bedroom. It wasn't in her bed because she was in a hospital bed. That day, a home health nurse had come by and said that it wouldn't be much longer for her. She had been dealing with skin cancer since 2006. The cancer started in her left hand and then spread to other places. In "dealing" with this cancer, she had a skin graft from her arm, had her pointer finger removed, and then had her hand and wrist removed in an effort to get rid of the cancer. By the way, she was 95 years old when she died. My grandmother had a very good sense of humor, and through all the surgeries, her comment was, "Well, I'm going away from here little by little."

I want to write other funny and good memories of MaMa (and PaPa), but I'm starting tonight with the day she died. I want to go ahead and get this one over with. It's not that I mind thinking about it, but it's still tough to realize that I can't go and see her. After my mom got the word about the nurse's comment that morning, she called me. We had scheduled our fourth annual Happy Birthday, Baby Jesus Party for that night. I called around and told people that it was cancelled. Then Birdie and I headed to Clayton. Birdie was almost five months old at the time. When I walked in, I walked right into her room. She did not make eye contact with me, and her eyes were sort of glazed over. It seemed so sad to see her like that that I felt like it was time for her to go. She was such an active woman all her life that I thought this was especially sad for her. Being "helpless" definitely was not her cup of tea throughout her battle with cancer. Seeing her so helpless made it seem like it was not her.

Anyway, I sat down beside her and grabbed her left arm. Her face was sort of turned towards the other side, but my mom was on the other side in the chair. I sometimes think about how it would have been different if I had gone over to the side where she was looking. Although she was still breathing, it didn't seem like she was really there with us anyway, so me going over to the other side wouldn' t have changed anything probably.

When I got there it was about 4:30. I stayed in the room with her, and I think my aunt must have had Birdie most of the time. Her breathing was very labored, and my uncle said that he had given her some medicine to help with that. While I sat there, I read a quick book that Hospice had given the family. My mom got up and was on the phone with her sister at about 5:25. I was in the room with MaMa and began noticing that her breathing was slowing down and not quite so labored. Then I noticed that it kept taking longer and longer for each breath to come. In the hospice book I had read, it said that patients might breathe very slow for periods of time and that was normal. This came to mind as I watched and listened to her breathe. Then the next breath didn't come. I kept waiting, still wondering if this was just normal. After a few seconds, I called for my mom to come in there, and she called her brother as soon as she got in there. None of us were very emotional because it was like we were just figuring out what had happened. My aunt came in with a mirror to check if she was breathing. In the middle of all this, I remember thinking, "How smart and how CSI to use a mirror!" :)

We called the home health nurse and she came and declared her dead at 6:30 p.m. She had to give her a bath before the funeral home people came. I stayed in there with her while she gave MaMa a bath. I wanted to be in there with MaMa as long as I could. I would have thought it would have been difficult to see the funeral home men carry MaMa out of there. I think it was better because I saw it. Sometimes fear of the unknown is worse than actually going through it. They asked us if we wanted her face covered up with a sheet or not, and I spoke up and said no. I know I probably should have left that up to her actual children, but I wanted her to still seem like herself one more time.

Before the home health nurse got there, the youth from MaMa's church came to sing Christmas carols to her. It was so sad and strange to have to turn them away because MaMa wasn't with us anymore.

That night, Birdie and I spent the night at MaMa's house. My mom and I stayed up so late and read MaMa's entire 2006 journal. We laughed and cried at all the funny things and sad things that she wrote. So many times throughout her journal, she wrote at the end of the day, "So this was just another day, but a good day." We decided that that would be the title of the 2006 journal:)

I dealt with MaMa's death so much better because I was able to be there with her. I thank God so much for answering this prayer for me.

Maybe the children will do something extra funny tomorrow so that my next post can make me laugh instead of cry.