6 year anniversary

Today’s date is October 20th. This day six years ago I was battling my inner demons dealing with my grandmother’s sickness. It was something I couldn’t accept, and still to this day struggle to accept the illness that took her life. I am almost certain that on this day six years ago my eyes filled with tears as I left my grandmother’s house. Seeing her in that condition was heart breaking. The tough southern women that she was shouldn’t be lying on a hospital bed waiting for death to come. Deep down I knew that her time was coming, but I wasn’t willing to admit it. I had some remnant of hope that a cure was be found, and she would bounce back to the spunky bowler that she was earlier in the year. By this time my grandmother had stopped taking medications and receiving chemotherapy and was under the care of Hospice; which to me was and still is the ultimate sign of death and the feeling of loss. As soon as it was referred by the hospital that my grandmother go home and be under the care of an in home Hospice nurse I felt my life shift. I knew that for the first time in years I would lose someone close to me, and for the first time ever it would be a family member. Back when I was in high school I lost a good friend to cystic fibrosis. Sadly her life was taken too early, and every now and then I visit her grave and remember that smile that is forever embedded into my brain.

It’s hard for me to recall and track the stages that my grandmother went through. The vast majority of the few months are blocked out and I won’t allow my brain to search for those memories as it brings so many tears that I can not stop.

In December of 2004 I moved to Kalamazoo to live with my then boyfriend Jeff, his sister and her boyfriend. The girl who said she would never leave got up the nerve to go and now will never move again away from her family. A few days after Christmas I pulled out of my driveway in tears watching my mother cry and wave from the back door. The first few days, weeks and even months were so hard for me. I battled so hard with the concept of leaving home. My siblings were still young and I missed their antics, but I also missed my parents Ozzy the large, lazy cat that still has my heart! The car was loaded down with my personal items, Christmas gifts and a few hundred dollars worth of food and kitchen items that my grandma Betty purchased. Somehow I knew it was a mistake, but I couldn’t shake the feeling.

I was in Kalamazoo for a few months when my grandma was diagnosed with bronchitis for the first of many times. Something kept telling me to go home. In April of 2005 we moved back home and into Jeff’s parents house. Shortly after we moved home my grandma developed bronchitis for about the fourth time that year. It wasn’t much longer after this point that she was diagnosed with cancer. Here is where it gets fuzzy for me. I believe the cancer started out in her lungs, and then moved to various parts of her brain. This caused her to lose her vision. She had chemo, took pills, attended physical therapy and was still as sassy as ever, but it wasn’t helping. I stopped listening to the family and doctors. I heard what they were saying, but I didn’t...if that makes any sense at all. It was almost in one ear and out the other. I knew all the signs were not showing any positive changes. I knew that she was getting worse. I knew that my grandma would never physically be there for my wedding, children and for those infamous talks at her coffee table, but I still had this glorious hope that everything would change and be amazing once again.

There are a lot of things in life that others would regret doing. Of course I have so many things that I regret saying, but I always tell others that I don’t regret anything in life. But I lie. I regret listening to others when I was younger instead of forming my own opinions. I regret being afraid of my grandmother’s house, for it smelled of musty old well water. I regret not spending time with her, listening to her stories and smelling that wonderful cheaply made Avon perfume that she wore. I regret giggling at her Christmas earrings, tacky sweatshirts and her cell phone. Ok maybe not the cell hone that was reminiscent of the Zack Morris days, you know Saved By the Bell. If not, think of the millionaires who used to carry the big brick cell phones, that was her phone. Each of those things means so much to me today. I own a pair or two of her holiday earrings today and I am proud to be their owner. They are so special to me that they remain in a drawer in my jewelry box; I wouldn’t want to ruin them by wearing them ;) I am thankful that my sister brought me these earrings from my grandmother’s house. They were tossed aside by all the other family members because they didn’t hold any monetary value. I didn’t need or want anything valuable. I wanted my grandma; I wanted things that would remind me of her face, smile and eyes. I am also the very proud owner of grandma’s stinky nasty bowling towel; which since has been washed. Don’t tell her that though, she might roll over in her grave. Washing a bowling towel is one of those things that you just don’t do! I also am the owner of her bowling ball. I know what your thinking, why would you want a bowling ball? My answer? I have no idea why. I couldn’t stand to see it be tossed away. If it wasn’t for bowling on the same league with her I wouldn’t have known my grandmother at all. I passed along the shoes to my cousin, who would also bowl on occasions. The bowling ball was purchased for my grandmother twenty years prior at a garage sale by my aunt’s ex husband. I don’t remember what she said he paid, but it wasn’t much. Of course it was someone else’s bowling ball before then so it was drilled for someone else, but that didn’t stop her from bowling her butt off (some days).

The above paragraphs sums up my grandmother without making me sob at work. She was an amazing woman, and I regret not getting to know her better. I do have some wonderful memories of her that I cherish. I wish Brynnlee could have memories of her too. They would’ve loved each other. I wish she could’ve been there for my wedding, for my college graduation and every Sunday during winter to bowl with. I want to end my blog post with a few stories of my grandma.

While she was home recovering from bronchitis my grandma called to ask if I could bring a few things over to her. She wanted me to stop into Family Dollar in Blissfield and pick up a six pack of coke and hair spray. Not just hair spray, a cheap can of hair spray. And of course I had to go to Family Dollar specifically because she used to work there. I took the items to her house and she begged me to take the money. After a slight argument and then a threat from her I gladly pocketed the money while she answered the ancient dinosaur of a cell phone. It took me years to delete her phone number out of my phone. And in fact my old email still has emails that she wrote to me years ago. Which reminds me to print those out and hold onto them. I just took a brief break and read the emails. Oh and I love and miss grandma so much. They just remind me of her and I miss seeing her trying to use the computer! What would she have done in this age of technology? A touch screen phone instead of the dinosaur?

When my grandma was down in Toledo at the hospital I would visit her a few times a week after work or school. On this particular day I drove from Eastern Michigan University to Toledo to visit my grandma at Flower Hospital. Before leaving Ypsilanti I stopped and picked up a bouquet of flowers for my grandma. When I reached the hospital numerous family members were there, but my Aunt Karen greeted me at the door of the hospital. I thought it was odd, but assumed she needed a break. On the elevator ride to grandma’s room she told me that a tumor was putting pressure on her brain. This pressure was causing her to lose her vision. At the time they believed she could see shadows, but nothing other then that. I took a few minutes to sob in the hallway and then gathered myself to see the situation first hand. Sadly she didn’t get enjoy the colors of the flower arrangement that I had picked out. When I walked in the room I told her I was there and that I brought flowers. That is when she looked in the opposite direction and said the flowers were beautiful. This is when they tears started to fall, but after she wanted to smell them is when the waterworks started. She had a hard time lining her nose up to the flowers to smell them, and even though I was holding them I wasn’t much help at the moment. I remember her smile and her telling me they was beautiful and they that they smelled good. After that the visit was a blur because I cried almost the whole time. That is when I started to lose faith. Knowing that the tumor was spreading was hard to swallow.

Another day that sticks in my mind was when she made the move from her room in Flower Hospital to a room in Lake Park; which was located next to the hospital. Uncle Kevin and I were both there the day of her move. We packed up her items and loaded them onto her bed with her; please note that she wasn’t happy about this! Before we the second room was ready she asked Uncle Kevin to go buy her lunch. She was tired of hospital food; which I didn’t understand until I had my daughter. It was like pulling teeth to get her to make a decision on what she wanted for lunch. Finally she decided she wanted Burger King and chicken nuggets. Uncle Kevin left to get lunch, during this time I asked my grandma how she was feeling and of course she felt great. We talked a lot about how she was proud of me and she knew that I would make something of myself one day. It was a really nice time sitting next to her and listening to how proud she was of me, and I still had so much life left to make her more proud! Uncle Kevin came back with chicken fries, french fries and a coke for grandma. He forgot to ask before she left if she wanted sauce, so he grabbed a few different kinds. We would hand her the chicken or fry and hold the sauce for her to dip. It was so adorable to see her sitting on the edge of the bed swinging her feet like she was an innocent child. At this time she didn’t have any hair, and wasn’t wearing a wig that day. To keep the humor alive Uncle Kevin and I had to mess with her a little bit. We would move our hands around and make it difficult for her to find the sauce. A little mean? Yes, but she laughed.

After she moved to Lake Park she became grumpy. She wasn’t very happy with this location, and I have to said I can understand...it smelled like pee. The nurses and food were just the same. Grandma still didn’t enjoy the food, but she might’ve liked it more if she picked out the food herself. Aunt Karen picked it out for her. This of course meant the menu was based around what Aunt Karen liked. One day she ordered her tuna casserole...really? Grandma didn’t like tuna and she stuck out her tongue and refused to eat. The tray sat there for a little bit, and time and time again we asked if she wanted anything, still she refused. I took advantage of the situation and ate her dessert  Of course grandma then realized that there was more on the tray to eat. I told her no, and then politely asked the nurse to bring her a different meal (so I am a nice grandchild). After a few days in Lake Park grandma had a fit one morning. She claimed that it was so loud at night and she could barely sleep with the party going on in her room. When they asked her what she was talking about she said that someone kept turning her television on and off all night. Then they would turn it up loud and all these black people would come in her room (now mind you she used the inappropriate term that she grew up knowing in the south). Of course we giggled at the story and were concerned, so we called the nurse in. A few minutes later a very large black, female nurse came in; which added to our confusion. Could grandma be telling the truth? While the nurse was walking in the room my grandma was using that inappropriate term repeatedly. The rest of us in the room went paler then usual and quiet as a mouse. After meeting with the nurse she explained that grandma was seeing shadows, so everyone was black to her she just wouldn’t admit it. The loud noise going on and off throughout the night was the neighbor across the hall. She turned her television on and off all night and kept it loud enough to wake the dead.

Granted these memories aren't the only ones that I have of my grandma, but they certainly do stick out in my mind.