One of the reasons I haven't posted so much recently is that along with the birth of my son we have also had some loss. My Grandma passed away on the 28th of Feb, the death certificate says March 1st but that's more of a technicality.
Mary, my grandmother was 85 and was and always will be an idol. My grandfather Harold passed away 17 years ago, the day before my 13th birthday and he was more than my Grandfather, he was my best friend, my teacher, my mentor and my father, after all my biological father was worthless. My grandmother loved him dearly then and each day since, placing flowers on the church alter the Sunday of the week he died yearly, not even glancing towards another man, where I know a lot of women would move on to be happy a few years after, not my Gran though she stayed true to him always.
My brother was just a little over 1 at that time and she preserved with watching him as my Mum and Step-father worked (he is my dad for all intensive purposes). When I rebelled as a teenager she took me in and I lived with her until I got my own place, she taught me how to cook, bake and sew. She had to be pretty good as I can now make clothes that people think I bought. She taught me a lot about respect and love.
Once I moved from England to the United States I called her almost daily and some days we would talk for hours on end and others it was a quick check in. Soon she started to get sick and the doctors placed a shunt ready for dialysis should it get to that point and then in December of last year almost 4 years after the shunt was placed she started to not be able to shake colds and her limbs began to swell. Antibiotics were prescribed and the doctors came to her house, after all she was stubborn (wonder where I get this from). She canceled an appointment for her diabetes and kidney check because she was too ill to go and after that the doctor took some blood and she was admitted to hospital.
At the first hospital it was Gran as normal, complained that the food was horrid and that she was bored. Complained about the nurses, well she was 85 and getting a little grumpy. They found an issue with her heart skipping beats and basically it was more of a risk to attempt to fix it than to let it be. She was transferred to Manchester Hospital and had a round of dialysis. She made a huge recovery and was great for a couple of days and it began to slip again, she refused more dialysis as it was an uncomfortable procedure at this point and wanted to come home. It took a couple of weeks to make all the arrangements for her to come home, each day a little of my Gran disappeared, she forgot who my Mum was calling her Albert, imagined conversations that never happened and lost track of what day and time. She was giving up, not even wanting to watch Television, something she had done continually since my Gran dad had passed.
Finally each thing was in place, the hospital bed was in her front room at home, the caregivers had a schedule and my Mum had changed her work so she could fill her assignments at home and she came home on Wednesday. It was a stressful homecoming as the ambulance crew struggled to get her in her home and threatened to take her back to the hospital but with endurance and trials it was accomplished.
Grandma refused to believe she was at home, it didn't help that she was still in a hospital bed and had gone from pottering around the house, although with the help of a cane to bedridden in the 6 weeks in hospital. It also didn't help that the caregivers wore nurses uniforms. Grandma still wouldnt watch TV and my Mum struggled to get her to eat a spoonful of yogurt, although staying very British she managed her cups of tea.
I managed to speak to her once on the phone when she came home from the hospital and it wasn't the same person I had grown up around and as my Mum said at least she got my name right. Mum spent 24 hours a day by her side even through her arguments with people who weren't even there.
Sunday night the caregivers came and helped her be ready for sleep that night and an hour later my Mum realized she wasn't moving and found that my grandma has passed peacefully and quietly without a word. It took the Dr. till just after midnight to get there and call time of death and the police coroner a few hours longer. I received the news as the Dr left as my Mum didn't want to call me and be wrong about it.
I spoke to my Mum daily throughout my grans hospital stay with the exception of the 4 days I was in hospital having my son and still speak daily to her, still resolving each piece.
My mum wouldn't let me fly home for the funeral, its not my strong point I fell apart at the last funeral. I knew it was coming, I know it was for the best and it has ended the suffering and now she can be with my Gran dad again, the love of her life.
In our discussions, Mum thinks that she was waiting for the birth of her great - grandson as that was her constant concern and that once she heard from me and knew everything was ok she let go.
RIP Grandma, we miss you
No comments:
Post a Comment