Grandma Sue

I went to visit Grandma that day, before heading to meet friends for a pre-arranged dinner in uptown. Dinner was okay– mix somewhere between "nice" and "fun", and afterward I chauffeured part of the group back to Northfield. After telling my best friend what was happening back home, I packed a suitcase and drove back.

Aunt Judy flew in from Ohio, and she, Mom, and Grandpa alternated staying at Grandma's bedside, while Dad and I brought them food and drove them back and forth. The vigil lasted until Wednesday night, just as I was ready to head back to school (I'd already skipped Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday of that week to stay home). Judy was in the hallway talking to her home as I was in the room saying goodbye to Mom and giving her instructions to call me when Grandma's condition changed, when all of a sudden, it did. "Go get Judy". I step into the hallway: "Mom says to come in the room. Now." We step back in the room: "Go get Grandpa". And as I left the doorway, Grandma breathed her last.

I never saw Grandpa move so quickly from the house to the car–aches and pains forgotten, that man flew.

Our car served me well that night, understanding the urgency of why I was making it accelerate so quickly, and uncomplaining as I willfully decided to run a red light two blocks from the hospital. Not knowing anything that had happened, and still thinking Grandma to be in her last moments, I pulled up outside the hospital where Mom was there to meet Grandpa. I got inside the same time as the church pastor, and only then found out that Grandma was gone. But still, I had my wish: I had been there for her last breath, which is what I had hoped for.

I would wish everyone to have the same dying experience as my Grandma Sue's. In her last days, she was blessed with the chances to say goodbye to all her beloved family, either in person or over the phone. She was surrounded by loved ones from the moment she began "actively dying", to her last moment of consciousness, to her last heartbeat. And while she was conscious, Grandma was still fully lucid, and, for the first time in years, pain free. She dictated her funeral wishes, her obituary, inheritance gifts, and gave the grandchildren instructions to be good to our parents. We all had the chance to say goodbye and come to peace with what was happening. If ever there was one, hers was pretty darn near the most perfect way one can leave this world.

This was the first family funeral I'd been old enough to be a part of, so I skipped Thursday class to watch / help with final funeral planning. Visitation was Friday night, and the funeral service itself Saturday morning. We made sure to "tip the [Church lunch] ladies well" as Grandma requested, as well as Pastor. I had the honor of being a pallbearer, and then driving the Ohio side of the family as second car in the funeral procession to the cemetery.

Grandpa moved into assisted living a few weeks afterward, but it was time. Realistically, he'd been living alone since Grandma went into the hospital three or four months before. Since he's been there, we've seen his quality of life improve; they have all sorts of activities to keep their senior citizens interested and busy.

Written in Summer of 2006