My granny died last night. For those of you who follow my blog, you know I have written about her and her struggle with lung cancer in the past. A lot has happened in the last few days and I have been less active on here because of it. But I am a communicator and need to talk about it, so here we go.
The first memories I have of my dad's mother are from when I was pre-school aged. Minnie, my grandmother, lived with my grandfather Eddie (Edwin) in the country in what was an old log home. The logs had been plastered over so you couldn't tell, but it was rustic to say the least. I always liked going out there because it was so different from where I lived, in a subdivision in a small home in town. Half the house had wood or tile floors and there was this rickety winding staircase, very narrow, very old, that went to the upstairs. My father used to tell the obligatory stories about growing up there and how humble it was. While other kids heard stories of their parents walking to school 5 miles uphill both ways, I heard stories of my father waking up on winter mornings with snow on his blanket. His bed was next to the window, or what was supposed to be a window, and the snow would blow in around it onto his blanket.
I also heard outhouse tales. Yes, you heard me right - outhouse tales. Tales of not wanting to go out there because of how cold it was and the like. One of my favorite stories went like this: The outhouse was made of concrete block. As you know, these blocks have to open squares spaces in them and when stacked, if you look down from the top, you can see almost to the bottom of the structure. Their conrete outhouse had a small wood roof but the tops of the blocks were open. They had very little money and a lot of mouths to feed in that home. My grandfather would go out to the outhouse and throw any change he had in the top of the concrete blocks and you could hear it going down to the ground. He never told anyone he was doing this, and it's hard to say how long he kept this up. One very hard winter, when they were out of money, my grandfather went outside with a hammer, busted a hole in the bottom of the outhouse, and out came all this money! (No government handouts for him!)
The house was heated downstairs with a big potbelly stove. They used coal to fire it and my last memory of the grandfather, before the stroke that put him in a nursing home, was of him shoveling coal into a bucket to heat the house. I wanted to help, but he said it was man's work and didn't want me to get dirty. I must have been about 5.
The main entrance to the home was through the side into the kitchen, which was an addition onto the main house. I would almost always see my grandmother standing there, washing dishes or cooking. There was a laundry area off the side of the kitchen with an old washtub washing machine with a wringer. No fancy electric washer or dryer. There was room to hang clothes inside to dry in the winter, and outside there were many lines for clothes in summer. The floor was tile in the kitchen and dirt leading into the laundry area. They also had a hand pump well inside the kitchen for water, as well as a hand pump outside.
My grandmother was the quintessential mother. She was forever cooking or cleaning, doing laundry or tending a child or grandchild. The woman never sat down. In her later years when the kids were gone and she had moved in with my father, she was still that way. She kept the kitchen spotless. It was a running joke that you couldn't put your coffee cup down and turn your back because she would take it and wash it.
After I joined the Navy and was pregnant with my second child, I had some medical problems and was put on bedrest. This was not convenient for a soon-to-be mom who had a 1 1/2-year-old toddler running around. So my dad put granny on her first plane ride, back in 1987, to come and help me. She cooked and cleaned and looked after my daughter until my son was born. When my youngest son was born, he had special needs and was in the hospital until he was 6 weeks old. My husband had to deploy to the middle east because he was in the Navy. So, my dad came and got the kids and took them back with him. My grandmother cared for them and always made sure they contacted me and had a good time while with her, until the baby was stable enough to where I could care for them all again.
My grandfather was put in a nursing home when I was about 5 or 6 and was there for nearly 15 years. She was there for him and took care of him, nearly every day. After he died, she took care of grandbabies, and then great-grandbabies. My grandmother had 9 children and 3 of them passed before her, something that made her very sad. She lived for her family though.
About 10 years ago she had a heart attack and this changed her a bit. She was a Quaker growing up, somewhat reserved. After her heart attack, she became quite "saucy" as I like to say. She wasn't afraid to tell you what she thought, and certain expletives were known to fly, but that was granny. She had an amazing spirit.
In her final days in the nursing home, she started to go downhill and have a lot of pain. They got the pain under control but she had been in this nursing home/hospice center for over 2 months. The pain killers caused her to hallucinate a bit. She believed she was much younger and she kept asking for "the baby." The hospice folks suggested getting her a doll to care for and that was the trick. It redirected her mind from the pain and gave her something else to focus on. She would "hold court" (as I called it) everyone filing into the hospice center visiting her and Mary Lynne (the name she gave the baby) as she fed and changed it. She still knew everyone in this time period though. The mind is a funny thing.
After a night last week where she cried longing to go home, the family decided to honor her wishes. There was not much more that could be done. And so, 3 days ago they brought her home. My dad had called me and told me about those plans as he waited for the home health folks to get there with the hospital bed. My father was going to put her in his family room, but I suggested he put her in the living room, facing this huge picture window my dad has. That way she could look outside and with the bed being in the center of the room, she could have a lot of people around her. My little contribution from 4000 miles away, I suppose. After her arrival, my dad called me, absolutely beaming, because he said once they opened the ambulance doors and she realized where she was, she smiled and cried she was so happy. She continued that way.
Last night, my mother went out to see her with my niece (my parents are divorced) and brought her some homemade potato soup. She ate a bowl of it and was very happy and animated. Still hallucinating a bit I suppose, my grandmother spoke of people who had passed before her and said she had spoken to each of them, minus one son. She seemed at peace with this. As well, my grandmother had a wicked sense of humor and whenever my father, who is very sarcastic, would say something witty, she would give him the finger. That was her thing. She liked to give him the finger all the time. She loved that man even though she called him an a--hole. I know, I have an interesting family to say the least. But hey, don't we all?
Last night she went to sleep and didn't wake up. My aunt and father were with her and they said she went peacefully. She said she didn't want a funeral or a viewing, so my family is honoring her wishes. On her own, she had contacted the local college and asked that her body be donated to science. She had some interesting medical issues and wanted to help. I think my grandmother could have been a scientist or a doctor if she had been born in a different time or under different circumstances. She was "just" a country gal though. Her headstone is already carved and waiting for her. My grandfather died over 20 years ago and she will rest next to him. On her headstone, an old wringer washing machine is carved with a clothesline next to it. This is what she wanted.
Facebook is an amazing thing. Here are some of the posts from Facebook by my family this morning:
(From my mother) I am so glad she was able to come home and be happy during her last couple of days. You kids have been wonderful to her and she was blessed to have you by her side during her whole illness. I will miss her very much. She was a good woman who was much loved.
(From my aunt) Mom died about 4:30/5 this AM, very peacefully in her sleep. Hospice was here last night and we put a new breathing mask on her, but she kept tipping it off her chin, when I went to straighten it up for the fourth time since midnight, she was cold to the touch. We knew it was coming but thought it would be a while. She wanted to come home and was happy to be here.
(From another aunt) So, We lost Mom this morning. All she wanted was to go home. She got her wish, and was happy and at peace.She went peacefully.She was one hell of a woman and put up one hell of a fight.I hope I'm half the woman she was. I will miss her so much. I LOVE YOU MOM!
(From my uncle) Well my mother is gone and now im a little lost. She was everything to me. A great lady. Im gonna miss her so much. I love you mom.
Below is a picture of my "saucy" granny, one that I guess you have to know her to understand. People were forever getting her these shirts, and she would wear them. It was too funny to see this little old lady with these shirts on. She was small, short, but had such a spirit.
I will miss her so much and appreciate anyone who reads this leaving a note. You can leave it anonymously if you wish. I want to pass them on to my family who has been so strong and by her side, especially in her final days. Thanks so much for following her journey.
