Well, this is not going to be the usual post where I ramble on about some random topic or event that made me feel compelled to write. While I may ramble, this topic is not remotely random, at least not to me.
My grandmother passed away on September 12, 2011. After having a stroke on August 20, 2011, she was paralyzed on her left side and completely bedridden. While she was still at home, my sister and I made the 3 1/2 hour drive to visit her and our granddad. I was not looking forward to the trip or our time there as I went knowing it would be the last time I saw her alive. Our dad told us to "put on your big girl panties" if we visited, and though I knew it was going to be unpleasant to see her in that state, I was grateful for the warning.
Without going into all of the details (mostly because Mamaw would want to preserve her dignity but also because it's still makes me too sad), I will say that we spent a good part of our day taking care of and changing her as if she were a very young child. She had to be fed and could not chew well, so her meals were smashed watermelon, pudding, creamed corn, broth, anything that could be swallowed easily with little or no chewing. We weren't always sure that she even knew we were in the room or who we were, but about the time we began to doubt her lucidity, she would say something that left us with little doubt.
And that made the day a complete blessing. Though she had difficulty speaking, could not sit up, could not eat easily, or go to the bathroom on her own, she still knew our faces and could tell us that she loved us. Her wonderful response to our answered "I love you too" was "I know." And she did. At one point when we thought she was sleeping, she caught us trying to slip quietly out of the room with a "where do you think you're going?" She even told both of us, at different times during that day, that we had big butts. =^) While most women would be highly offended at that remark, it convinced us both that our mamaw was still there inside that brain. No matter how damaged she was by the stroke, the woman could still tease us and make us laugh.
I didn't want to go that day. I'm ashamed to admit it, but it's the truth. I didn't want to see my grandma that way and was afraid that the memory would be too painful to bear. But, something kept telling me I needed to go, and it turns out that the voice was right. I needed to go, not just for me, but to be support for my sister and to give my dad and uncle a much needed break from the ten days already spent caring for her. However, after being there, I also realized I needed to go for her -- to give her the opportunity to see me and say goodbye without tears but with lots of love and laughter. I will be grateful for as long as I live that the Lord got me there and showed me His presence in a time that could have been nothing but sorrow.
When she passed a few weeks later, we were all ready for her to go, herself included. I still cried then (and now at times), but knowing her faith was in Jesus and that she was ready to be with Him made giving her back to Him so much easier for all of us. My grandfather, her husband of 71 years, never showed a single sign of sadness at the loss of his wife. Not because he didn't love and isn't missing her every minute he's alive but because his trust and faith are also in the Lord. He is 98 years old and has lived many lives during that time. Most of those years were spend with Mamaw and the Lord. A combination it would be hard to top.
It's hard for me to express the beauty I find in the relationship of my grandparents and their relationship with God. They are simple, country folk from southern Indiana who loved each other through good and bad, happy and sad, plenty and lean and through it all, they loved the Lord as well. And now, my grandmother is free of pain and at peace. She's home.
