“With my last breath, I’ll exhale my love for you. I hope it’s a cold day, so you can see what you meant to me.
” - Jarod Kintz
My Grandmother is dying; at least she's working on it, but with mixed results at this point. Three years ago when fall rolled around I remember my dad telling me that she had congestive heart failure and it didn't look like she would make it through the winter. Not only did she make it through that winter but the winter after that as well. She was ninety five then and still about as active as someone that age with two bad wheels could be. But by the time this past fall painted the Catskill Mountains outside her windows orange, she was done. She stopped eating and wouldn't get out of bed. She was at peace and it was time to go home. So the family was summoned to say our last goodbyes. I went to see her and wrote the following at the time...
It's New York, it's December, and I am here to say my last goodbye to my dying grandmother, yes that Grandmother. She is still part of the commune at 95 and no longer gets out of bed. Instead she holds my hand as we watch the birds compete with squirrels for survival outside her window on a bitter Catskill Mountain morning... Good byes like this are really hard!
She was ready to go and making sure we all new it. But the months passed and she got stronger seemingly each week until April when she turned 96 and at least the rest of us celebrated. Then the roller coaster crested its track once more and she began to slip away. My brother took his fiance to meet her for the first and last time and she told him she was glad they came when they did because she didn't want to wait around. This time is really going to be it I thought as I waited day after day for that phone call that never came.
By now I am sure you know what comes next. Yep you guessed it, she has rebounded again. At this point I don't blame you if you don't believe my tale, I hardly do myself. In less than two weeks my brother will wed his lovely bride on a farm just outside Utica, NY. Needless to say Grandma will not be attending the wedding. However those of us from out of town now hope to do something that seemed impossible only two weeks ago; see her one more time.
Mary Taylor was born in 1919 in southern New Jersey. Almost immediately her mother began to call her "Pepper" because of her feisty nature. Pepper eventually became "Grandma Pep" when I came along and has stuck. Make no mistake, this is not her obituary. She is very much alive, much to her chagrin. I will admit that writing about my Grandmother wanting to die is slightly uncomfortable. Its not a weird Dr. Kevorkian thing for her; she is very old and broken down and she believes that a better place is waiting for her in the next life. I am pretty sure if we all make it to 96 and find ourselves as beat up as she is and we are at peace with the lives we've lived that we would be ready to go. The only thing I can come up with to explain why she keeps bouncing back from the grave over and over in spite of how much she wants to pass is that feisty "Pepper" nature. She has always been as active as her bad knees would let her. She played softball into her 80's, and I personally went sledding with her in her 90's. It's as if her body wants to stick around for one more adventure.
I've been to the spot that will be her final resting place. On a hill surrounded by her beloved Catskills with a view of a mountain lake and hand carved wooden gates it is without a doubt one of the most beautiful cemetery's I have ever seen. It will be a lovely place to go and remember her for years to come. Honestly I am torn about this dying thing. When you love someone you want them around as much as possible. But if they are suffering or its seemingly their time as the signs point to with her, then you have to set your want to's aside and wish for peace for her. But then again if she could hold on for two more weeks so we could see her again, that would be great. Oh crap, there I go being selfish again.
It's New York, it's December, and I am here to say my last goodbye to my dying grandmother, yes that Grandmother. She is still part of the commune at 95 and no longer gets out of bed. Instead she holds my hand as we watch the birds compete with squirrels for survival outside her window on a bitter Catskill Mountain morning... Good byes like this are really hard!
She was ready to go and making sure we all new it. But the months passed and she got stronger seemingly each week until April when she turned 96 and at least the rest of us celebrated. Then the roller coaster crested its track once more and she began to slip away. My brother took his fiance to meet her for the first and last time and she told him she was glad they came when they did because she didn't want to wait around. This time is really going to be it I thought as I waited day after day for that phone call that never came.
By now I am sure you know what comes next. Yep you guessed it, she has rebounded again. At this point I don't blame you if you don't believe my tale, I hardly do myself. In less than two weeks my brother will wed his lovely bride on a farm just outside Utica, NY. Needless to say Grandma will not be attending the wedding. However those of us from out of town now hope to do something that seemed impossible only two weeks ago; see her one more time.
Mary Taylor was born in 1919 in southern New Jersey. Almost immediately her mother began to call her "Pepper" because of her feisty nature. Pepper eventually became "Grandma Pep" when I came along and has stuck. Make no mistake, this is not her obituary. She is very much alive, much to her chagrin. I will admit that writing about my Grandmother wanting to die is slightly uncomfortable. Its not a weird Dr. Kevorkian thing for her; she is very old and broken down and she believes that a better place is waiting for her in the next life. I am pretty sure if we all make it to 96 and find ourselves as beat up as she is and we are at peace with the lives we've lived that we would be ready to go. The only thing I can come up with to explain why she keeps bouncing back from the grave over and over in spite of how much she wants to pass is that feisty "Pepper" nature. She has always been as active as her bad knees would let her. She played softball into her 80's, and I personally went sledding with her in her 90's. It's as if her body wants to stick around for one more adventure.
I've been to the spot that will be her final resting place. On a hill surrounded by her beloved Catskills with a view of a mountain lake and hand carved wooden gates it is without a doubt one of the most beautiful cemetery's I have ever seen. It will be a lovely place to go and remember her for years to come. Honestly I am torn about this dying thing. When you love someone you want them around as much as possible. But if they are suffering or its seemingly their time as the signs point to with her, then you have to set your want to's aside and wish for peace for her. But then again if she could hold on for two more weeks so we could see her again, that would be great. Oh crap, there I go being selfish again.
"A dying man needs to die, as a sleepy man needs to sleep, and there comes a time when it is wrong, as well as useless, to resist" - Stewart Alsop
Such profound writing.
ReplyDeleteI liked the quotes and I really like how your grandma's name is Pepper and the part you put about her living up to that name. I hope you get to see her again too. Kathy
ReplyDelete