My Grandparents had a pretty eventful Thanksgiving. They were able to visit with all 3 of their children, me and a few other grandchildren, and they even got a suprise visit from Green Bay with my cousin Sarah and their brand new baby girl. They were so excited to meet another Great Grandchild.
I'm wondering if that was just what Grandma was waiting for.
Shortly after everyone were on their flights home, Grandma stopped talking. Her ankles and hands became more and more swollen and she grew weaker. So weak she couldn't feed herself. What we all knew would come finally seems to be happening.
Grandpa signed the Hospice paperwork yesterday; Grandma won't be with us much longer.
I'm grateful that Hospice is involved. They will be there every night to help her to bed. A chaplain will come by a few times a week for spritual support and a nurse will be there every day. They've taken her off the medications that she doesn't really need anymore (cholesterol).
I'm doing just OK. It hurts me that the next time I see her will be in a casket. I ache when I think that the next time I see my Grandpa he will be a widower. After 62 years of marriage, my Grandpa is losing his wife, his lover, his best friend, his soul mate. I have never seen anyone love another person as much as he loves her. I am scared to see him defeated. I'm afraid to see him without that twinkle in his irish eyes. I'm afraid I won't recognize him without it.
Logistially, I bought trip insurance for my cruise in Febuary, just in case. Murphy's Law says that because I bought the insurance I won't need it. I really hope that's the case.
...I'm really going to miss her.
1 comment:
Awwwww, Mandi, I'm so sorry. Your post got me all teary.
I've been very fortunate in my life not to have lost a lot of people. My grandmother died while I was on my honeymoon in 1987 and I had to cut it short to fly home for the funeral. That was a long time ago. Now my mom is 82, my father is 85, my aunt is 86, and other of my relatives are in their mid to late 80s. It's really only a short question of time.
Last year my mother lost her gentleman friend, Jack, who also happened to own the condo below her. She called him her "friend in the basement" which I thought was so cute. He was 90 and spry and healthy and drove and took her everywhere. Then one day he fell, bumped his head and had a stroke. He died less than a week later. The last time I saw Jack he was at the Hospice facility in Mandarin. The nurses took extremely good care of him, but it is a sad place to be.
Your grandma sure was a looker!
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