Today marks three years since my all-time favorite person left this world for the next. Since I’m spending this year moving old blog posts over, I thought this would be a good opportunity to revisit my post from when she died. While time has passed and it’s easier to talk about it now, not a day goes by where I don’t miss her and wish she was still here. I wear her ring, that once donned her smoking hand pinky, proudly, and look forward to the day that we can be together again.
Getting too personal is not something I strive for here on this blog… I prefer it as a place to complain about current events, inform about certain somethings or share a recipe or two. Publishing this is going to be uncomfortable, but it is going to happen.
Something happened last week that I’d like to immortalize, or at least have here to remember when necessary. You see, there’s something about writing when something is fresh in your mind. It’s been over a week since it happened, so it’s fresh enough to still say it before details start to fade.
My favorite family member, the woman I’ll forever strive to become ended her earthly journey on May 18, 2013 at 1:06 PM. Ruthe Jeanne, my grandmother, better known as Mama (pronounced “Mumma), was everything a grandmother should be… She was not the type to knit, cook, bake, or sew… She was more the type to be the best sounding board I ever had, would be available at a moment’s notice, always tell me I’m beautiful, and taught me some of the most valuable lessons of my life.
When I heard that she was in the hospital, I did not think much of it. People in their mid-eighties (sorry for making that information public, Mama) get sick a lot, and I simply thought it would be just another instance of another sickness, that she’d be out in a few days and everything would be fine again. When I started to gather pieces of information from my cousin, it became evident that I needed to go visit. So, on May 8, I packed up and booked it to Strongsville for a quick, eighteen hour stay that consisted of tissue paper flower construction (for her room, since real flowers weren’t allowed), sleeping, and an hour-long visit to the ICU. Upon seeing her, I realized that things were not good, to say the least. When I said goodbye, I made her promise that she’ll get better.. I drove back to DC in tears with a grim realization of Mama’s mortality. And coming to that realization absolutely sucked.
Almost a week later, my mom called to tell me that Mama was non-responsive and that the doctor advised that they discontinue her dialysis. They complied and moved her to a hospice near my parents’ house. Knowing that the inevitable was near, I stayed put in DC since I had recently seen her… I had no desire to watch her die, and I knew she would understand that I had just started a new job and I needed to be here… Right?
Fast forward to Friday, and I’m waiting by the phone… Can’t stop waiting.. Calling my mom every few hours… Waiting… Finally, after meeting a friend for coffee, going shopping, cleaning my bathroom, steam cleaning my carpets, and doing all of my laundry, I realized that I might as well just go to Ohio… So I packed up and started driving.
Once I got out of traffic, the reality of the situation started to hit me: when I return back to DC, Mama will be gone.. A major form of stability will be over… And there’s nothing I can do to change that. So, I drove faster, realizing that, yes, I do actually want to talk to her and see her one last time before she passes.
I arrived at the hospice at 12:30, midnight. My mom, sister, and cousin were all there and evidently tired. Mama was lying in bed, breathing heavily with her eyes closed. I sat next to her, held her hand, and told her everything I wanted to say (5.5 hours alone in the car are very useful for planning these things out). I told her that I knew I made her promise that she’ll get better, but we’ll be OK if that doesn’t happen.. We’ll miss her very much.. That’s she’s everything a grandmother should be, that I hope to be like her some day… That I’ll have babies some day, and they’ll all know about her, what an amazing, loving person she was and how I’d be honored to be half the person she was. Shortly thereafter, I feel asleep on the cot while my mom sat up with Mama.
3:00 AM rolled around, and my mom woke me up, suggesting that we go home and get some sleep. My mom grabbed Mama’s hand and told her we were leaving, but, if she wanted us to stay, to squeeze her hand.. Mama squeezed, so we stayed.
My mom fell asleep on the cot, so I sat up with Mama. I had caught a second wind, and read Mama the Book of Ruth…
But Ruth replied, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.” – Ruth 1:16-17
The Book of Ruth is a beautiful story.. And of course I got choked up while reading that part. Once I finished reading, I held Mama’s hand again and prayed the nighttime prayer she taught me one last time:
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
Guide me through the livelong night,
And waken me by morning’s light.
God bless everybody in the world,
Make us healthy and strong,
Thank you for a wonderful day,
And let us be kinder to each other.
AMEN.
I fell asleep next to my Mama and went home a few hours later, when my aunt came to take over.
Around 12:45, my aunt called to tell us to get up to the hospice quickly. We all but flew up there. I walked in to the hospice room to find my aunt, my mom, my uncle, my sister, my cousins, a beloved neighbor, and Mama’s “son she never had,” standing around her, crying.. I got to say goodbye, reminding her that my babies will know all about her, and promised never to forget her. My cousin Kenny was the last to say goodbye before she was declared dead at 1:06 PM.
The days following were a blur: meeting with the Reverend, meeting with the funeral director, gathering photos and the surreal feeling of walking in to her house, knowing that I’ll never again see her at her chair, playing solitaire, watching some tacky game show, smoking her Virginia Slims…
I had walked past this a million times at Mama’s house, but never stopped to read it. Mama wrote this to her grandmother, whom she also called Mama. It’s amazing how much she lived this out in her own life.
Rest in peace, my sweet Mama. I miss you, and always will. I know one day this pain will subside, but right now missing you hurts more than anything… I’m sorry I’m using technology to write this… I know how much you think computers are evil and a waste of our time. Maybe you’re right. Give Papa a big hug for me, and I will see you soon. Until then, you are my shooting star.
Geez! Wasnt prepared for that lol. Now that I’ve composed myself, I miss her too. She was more of a grandma to me than my own.
I knew your sweet and endearing Mama. My parents were friends with her and Don… my mother, Evelyn worked with her for years and I was a friend to Tracy. She always stood out and made me (and everyone) feel so loved and special… It was always a treat to go to her house (and seeing duda too!). I was so happy to come across your blog entry and be reminded of the goodness she possessed and shared with the world… Love you Ruthie,
-Silly Sally
Absolutely beautiful tribute to a very special woman. My late husband Don and I loved both her and Donnie and considered it a privilege to have known them both. Bless you and the entire family.