It's about a 9 hour drive from my house to her's and that's a lot of time to wrestle with emotions. And since there is absolutely NOTHING to see on this drive, it's a lot of time to wrestle with God about your emotions. But before I get too far ahead of myself, let me tell you a little about this woman that I admire for her strength, perseverance and her heart for Christ.
My Grandmother, and to most known as Lavern is a tough ol bird. No if, ands or buts about it. She just is. But as tough as she is, she is just as loving to her family and friends. She lost my Grampa in January of 2012 and even though her world shattered, she held all of us, especially me close during that time of loss. And ever since then, she's been in their house. She's been living independently because that's who she is. She has been well provided for and taken care of by my Grampa even beyond his time here on earth. That man, he holds my heart still to this day. I miss him but I know Gramma misses him more. I can't imagine living in that house by yourself without your best friend.
In October, we thought we were sending Gramma to her heavenly home, but alas, like I said, she's a tough old bird! She came home from a lengthy hospital stay and rehab for a broken femur in December. Yes, you read that right, her femur and yep, I said October to December. During her stay in the hospital she kept us on our toes. Kidney failure, heart blockages, heart attacks, infections...the list went on and on and on. But God walked alongside her and right before Christmas, she came home to her home. Tired, a bit worn out and bruised but home. Home...and then things just began changing.
Gramma began to realize that she needed more help with daily routines. I remember the day I talked with her on the phone about it. She sounded a bit unsure and I told her, "I am proud of you for making a hard choice. I know this is tough but I am proud of you". True to Gramma form, she changed the subject quick. While she gives to and loves her family, she does NOT like to show emotion in front of them. Strong and tough, that's all she lets you see. So the decision was made, papers were signed and changes were to begin. Insert here, my Mom, who flew out to Iowa before Christmas, has been with my Gramma since she came home and helping her. And as Gramma said, "Your mother can't live with me forever". Valid point. And so that brings us back to me driving out to Iowa.
I thought I was ok with all these changes but it's tough. I wasn't prepared to see the house the way it is. It's showing it's age. Oh, don't get me wrong, it's NOT a shambles but it just looked different. Things were different. Maybe it was God protecting me in the past. Maybe it was just I'm older now and this trip was different. I don't know. My first night there I laid in bed and just listened to the house. I smelled the smells of the upstairs. I tried to visualize a time when I wouldn't be sleeping in that upstairs bedroom that used to be my Mom's. I couldn't. It's where I have always slept when I've visited.
And then there was Gramma. She's not the same. While she is alert and very aware of everything, she's looking worn out and tired. She has trouble walking and doing simple daily tasks. That's hard to see. I don't know if you will agree with me but I often times feel blessed that I didn't see my Grampa declining. The last time I saw him he was healthy, happy and just sarcastic Grampa. It was hard seeing Gramma so run down. She's been through a lot. And so the process began when I got there of cleaning things out, organizing belongings and my favorite part was listening to each and every story that went with all the items.
One item in particular that is now sitting on my bookshelf is a cream and sugar set that was a gift to my Grandparent's for their wedding. It has a poem in the sugar dish that my Gramma has kept all these years. It sat on a wooden shelf my Great Grampa Fry made years and years ago and now it sits in my dining room. Something special I will always treasure.
Gramma, Mom and I went though each room. I emptied out trunks and chests and Gramma told the stories. I was even gifted a quilt that belonged to my Grampa's mom, Evelyn. Oh the treasures and the stories. Moments that I will forever hold dear to my heart. Stories that I can only hope to remember so that I can share them.
And so the day came to begin moving into Gramma's new home. I tell you what, it's beautiful. So beautiful. I am so pleased knowing where she is living. And the people are so nice. I'm still wrestling with the emotions of her not sitting in her chair in the den when I call to chat but rather trying to envision her sitting in her chair in her apartment. I'll get there, eventually.
Change is hard. I can still vividly remember spending summers at Gramma and Grampa's and swimming in the pool in the backyard. We would swim, drink pop out of the bottle and eat frozen candy bars. I can still see my sister and I sleeping in our little makeshift apartment in the basement that Grampa made us. I laugh at my sister and I playing school in that basement and using the pop fridge as the chalkboard. And now, that basement is empty of all those things and memories. But that's the beauty of how God has created us. We can hold these memories in our hearts and minds and not have to have the "things".
Gramma is going to do just fine in this new phase of her life. Grampa prepared for it long before he died. Gramma is a social butterfly and she is going to be so busy with friends that I doubt I will have many opportunities to chat with her. It'll take a little time to get acclimated to this new place but she'll get there. She's a tough ol' bird. And she is showing her family just how strong she is by stepping out in faith and trusting God through all these transitions. I am so proud of her. The house is just a structure, a building...home is where the love is and that just happens to have a new address. I'll adjust because she is adjusting. I like to think I share a lot of the qualities seen in my Grandmother. And that makes me proud to be her Grand-daughter. I love you Gramma...
No comments:
Post a Comment