My grandma Doris Johnson died on July 19th, 2017 just a
couple weeks after her birthday. She was not well for several years and a
little so-so for years before that. She had diabetes; most of her problems
stemmed from that and just getting older.
A couple years ago she lost some of the toes on one of her
feet. She had to be in the nursing home until she was able to "learn"
how to walk again without those little guys. That's the first place her and
Jason met. It was quite the exciting day for the Sterling nursing home, I'm
sure. Folks walked by her door in waves ready to look in and see the bizarre
sights in Doris's room. She, of course, didn't say a word about anything that
might have seemed unusual to her.
I had called her earlier to let her know we were coming. I
said "he's got tattoos on his face grandma, just so you're prepared."
She says "oh alright, well I'll see you when you get here."
Jason never knew her when she was big and strong and her
hair was still dark. Granted, she was still 5'8 (technically, not that she
could stand up that tall) when she died and still had lots of her dark hair
left.
*Meanwhile, I already have white hair. :(*
I had gotten used to her stooped skinnier body and less
squishy hugs. Otherwise she was always the same. She sure wanted to be at home
though she wouldn't really have been doing much different if she was there.
Grandpa had taken over dishes duty I think. My aunts, I assume, helped out with
some of the other chores.
We'd gone to visit grandma several times in various hospital
rooms in the last year. Jason patiently sat with us as we chatted about what
everyone was up to or who had come to visit. She got a little more forgetful as
time went on but just barely.
At the time that she made the decision to stop her dialysis
treatments, she was fully capable of making that decision. I doubt there was
much argument from the family. They're not arguers, for one thing, but also
aren't big on extraordinary measures. She was already labeled as DNR so it's
not a surprise that this is what she decided. I hadn't considered that it was
an option so it was still a little unexpected.
We knew that her time would be limited from that point. I
visited her the next day or so and she was doing alright. When you ask her how
she's doing she always says "hanging in there..." No doom and gloom
for her. In the next couple days she was moved to hospice at Eben Ezer. This
was much closer to home and she knew more people there. The first night we
stopped to visit we knew we were in the right place since my California auntie
(who I was mistaken for a couple times, as well as mistaken for her
daughter...it's understandable if my dad's not standing next to me) was in the
parking lot. They showed us where the room was and hung out a little while. It
was getting late but grandpa was still there by her side. She was obviously
doing not quite as well as she had been the week before but she still knew we
were there and could chat.
We went back every day and sat with her. It was the popular
place to be. Her friends, neighbors, pastor, family, they were all in and out
all day. She had a big window to look out and see the trees and squirrels.
Grandpa had a special chair to sit in where he could lift himself up to help
getting out of the chair. It was nothing fancy but it had everything she
needed. (Coulda used some extra A/C but she didn't seem to mind.) We'd take
turns in the chairs and the aunts rotated who helped at meal times.
Before we left on our last day grandpa came in just in time
to help her with her lunch.
I had never considered that some day I'd watch my grandpa
helping to feed his wife, wiping off her face, giving her tiny bites that she
could manage. He helped her with her oxygen which she was constantly fussing
with. He sat next to her and held her hand as she half-napped. At one point she
started to fall asleep and her hand started to fall. She thought it was him
moving. She woke up and asked if he was going somewhere. He said "no, are
you?" She kinda laughed and said "no, I don't think so." I
remember her saying "you better stay close." I'll probably always
wonder if she said that knowing she wasn't going to be there for long or if she
just didn't want him wandering off.
She kept asking him about the "smallest person in the
room." We couldn't really tell what she was referring to. I said
"well grandma I'm the shortest one in the room but not the smallest."
She laughed and said "no, you're not small." Never did figure out
what she was talking about. Also never found out why several times she reached
up in to the air like she was grabbing something but there wasn't anything
there. I'd suspect she saw some stuff that we did not.
After lunch I sat by her and told her we would be going soon
because I was trying to get back to work for an interview. She just said
"alright" in her grandma tone. I say it a lot in a similar tone. I
can't tell if I was doing it before and didn't notice or if I started doing it
more after that because she said it so much. She repeated it a lot since she'd
drift in and out of conversations but she was still listening.
I held her hand. I couldn't really give her hugs anymore so
I'd hold her hand instead. I was always worried about bumping something that
might hurt her.
I told her I loved her and we'd be seeing her. She said
"alright."
Later that evening she was gone. They said she would just
fall asleep and it wouldn't be painful. I guess that's probably what
happened.
In the last couple weeks of her life she'd seen all of her
children and grandchildren. She'd seen many of her lifelong friends. She'd
talked to friends who were far away. She got cards, flowers, and prayers. She
was fidgety and probably uncomfortable but not in much pain. She got to
celebrate one last birthday. For her, I don't think she would have asked for
anything more, under the circumstances.
I'm immensely grateful that I was able to visit her and
still be able to talk to her even in her last hours. I would trade a whole lot to have had that with my other grandma. I was one of 6 pallbearers
at her funeral, I was glad to be with her to the end.
She was devoted to her small church in her small town and
never would have guessed how full it would be with people there to send her
off. In fact, she probably would have thought it was silly to have so much fuss
over her but she would have said "whatever works."
