On Saturday, May 29th my grandmother and grandfather had just celebrated my grandfathers 92nd birthday with cake, cards and the company of my parents. As grandma was picking up the table she suffered heart failure and fell. For those of you who have read my blog before, my grandfather has advanced Alzheimers and is pretty confused on a day to day basis but made his way out to the nurses station in their care facility and let them know that Grandma fell. Grandma officially died two days later, after being declared brain dead the day before.
Although we all miss her terribly we know she had a wonderful, long, rich life. My Grandmother was someone to emulate, someone who everyone remembered as the person who always saw a silver lining in every rain cloud. Someone who, when her children complained about their children always stood up for them and reminded them that children are supposed to make mistakes so they were doing just as they should. This was a life we were to celebrate, not mourn. The part the family is mourning is my grandfather and his confusion with all that is going on.
The day she died my uncle took my grandfather to her hospital room to say goodbye, everyone wondering how much he would know and remember. He was clear and focused and very aware not only of what was going on but displayed unusual clarity about their past. He talked to her about how it was time for her to go, how much their wonderful life meant to him, how they had been married for 70 years and how much he loved her. Without any prompting he talked to the Dr.s and nurses about specific details of their shared 70 years. The man my Grandfather was was there again. It was a wonderful, magic moment.
Now, every day since her death he looks for her. Every day, several times a day, he asks someone where she is and every day he mourns her death all over again. He cries and tells us that they had a wonderful life and how he should have been first so that he could finally take care of her. He carries a picture of her in his pocket and takes it out every so often to look at it and tell whoever is around what a beautiful woman she is and how much he loves her. Then he looks on the bakc of the picture to see if anything is written about who it is. Grandpa will at times tell someone that he thinks he had a bad dream and ask someone to confirm it. Even though the family is accepting that it was my grandmothers time to go the grief comes from his grief each time he has to hear, for the first time each time, that his beloved bride of 70 years is no longer with him. In his grief and sadness he has not once lashed out at anyone, or asked 'why me', or had a mean word for anyone. He cries and talks about how wonderful she was and that he would not change one day in his life. He tells his family that his further joy will be in them living full, wonderful lives. Grandpa has been a trooper. He happily spends the night with different people, goes to family gatherings with a smile. Is generous with hugs and greets grandkids and great grandkids with a 'who is this beautiful young lady/ handsome young man' (even to me at 48). He is a love, and not just for that as he has also told me ' look how big you are now'. I could be mad but how- he looks at me as a kid.
My grandmothers quality of life had changed in the past 6 months and she was in a lot of pain and at 89 her ability to take care of my grandfather was sketchy. My mother and her brothers were having to make the tough decision, with her knowledge and protests, that her and my grandfather were going to be moving into the full time nursing care portion of their facility. She had the final say by not having to do this. I always loved that stubbornness about her. Even though the head tells you one thing the heart tells you another.
At this point my grandfathers heart is fully engaged. Due to a terrible disease his head is not so he must have his heart re broken every day. The silver lining- is there one? Of course there is- thank you Grandma- is that there is a love so deep at 92 that he only sees the good, he cries every time, and he looks at a picture of this woman he doesn't know that he knows (at age 87) and thinks she is beautiful and somewhere, somehow, KNOWS that he loves her.
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