Friday, July 23, 2010

Long Road

I am finding that this is going to be a long road for all of us. The past few days have been a blur. Hospice nurses have been in, appointments for clergy, social workers, and nurses are being scheduled. My mother, aunt, and myself are trying to find our way through medicines, schedules, and monitoring her around the clock. I would not change this for the world, though. Oddly enough, this time is priceless.



There is a certain closeness in helping a loved one at this point in their life. The hardest part is when she starts thanking us for doing this. I wish she would understand that this is helping us as well as her. Doing things such as washing her arms and legs with a cool cloth are gateways to conversations. She is still of sound mind and body and these are the times that we must look back upon.



As of now, she is an amazing patient. She is thankful and pleasant. Again, I marvel at her strength. She is trying to make us feel better and worrying about the 'burden' that this is putting on everyone around her. I haven't found a way to make her believe that is isn't a 'burden'~in a strange way, it is a gift.



I am thankful that God put me in this place and time to be able to help not only her but my mom and aunt. At the end of the night, the gravity of the situation hits me and it is hard. In the long run, I know that this long journey will help heal what is to come.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

To Be a Kid Again...

As I sit here today with a heavy heart, I find that I want to be a kid again.


I don't want the weight of the world on my shoulders. I want to be oblivious of pain and sadness, of stress of the future, and the sorrow of things to come. I am extremely lucky with my wonderful life, but am reminded today that every good thing will come to a worldly end and a spiritual beginning.

I try to be strong, understanding, and realistic of the journey that my grandmother has fought and is still fighting. In truth, we weren't really close with her as children. She was not the lovey~huggy grandmother that fixed scrapes and boo~boos, but as I get older I realize things about her that I did not fully understand as a child. She has had a difficult life with many stresses, some brought upon by herself and some out of her control. She is a remarkably strong woman. She will speak her mind and say/do what she thinks needs to be said or done. I find this amazing. I am the absolute opposite~I hate the rocking the boat so to speak. I hope to gain her strength as I continue to grow and mature.

Now that she has been living with my mother and father for the past few months, I have grown extremely close to her. The thought of losing this new-found gift now after 31 years is very saddening to me. She is my last grandparent left and by losing her I feel that I am losing my childhood.

Most of the time I am able to be strong and support her in her will to let God handle it from here. I know she is tired of fighting. The last three years has been nothing but a life or death battle. She has been dealt with challenges ranging from life threatening MRSA complications to oral cancer. I by no means begrudge her for letting it all go, but I find myself reverting to a child at times and want to be selfish.

I have tremendous faith that God will lead her home when it is her time. I know that my lesson to learn is to let go graciously for the betterment of her for her spiritual afterlife~to trust that God will lift her up to a place with no pain or sorrow. I know that in time, she is about to get the greatest gift to see our Maker's face and sit at his feet. I am so happy that she will be in a pain free afterlife running like a little girl, laughing, smiling, and enjoying the never ending salvation that Heaven offers.

So to my Grandmother, I love you with all of my heart, I support your decisions, and I will be there to hold your hand no matter how long this journey should take. I am in awe of your strength, your faith and your peace at the prospect of leaving your worldly body. I thank your for everything you have taught me. You will not be alone, now or ever.