Grandma's Last Days

The call came this past Saturday evening. Shortly after, my mom could barely relay the message to me that my grandma was in her last days. She had quit eating and was now nonresponsive. It’s been a slow decline over several years and the call was simply a matter of time, but it was still hard watching my mom handle the initial rush of emotion that was only to be expected in this next step. I have never been an emotional person, so I always just try my best to be a supportive person.

I did have a short moment of emotion. My breakdown happened at two in the morning and kind of surprised me as I laid in bed thinking about my grandma and memories. It’s so dumb, but it hit me that I was about to be the only redhead left in the family. How embarrassing to even post this. I think it was just something to do with the fact that it one thing I have from her that nobody else in this large family does. My breakdown lasted all of an approximate thirty seconds before I realized how ridiculous I was alone in my dark room at such a crazy hour. The best and most standout memory of my grandma, that I only can strive to make part of my own character, has been her overall closeness to God. When I think of her I picture her going throughout her daily happenings and humming different hymns that she cherished. It was something as natural to her as breathing.

The day after the call I made the trip with my mom across Florida and by Sunday afternoon we were at my grandma’s bedside at the assisted living facility in Clearwater. These last few days have been filled with obligations of preparatory work and with time in my grandma’s room. Not too many changes yet, just small evidences of decline. The hospice care just continues to remind us it can continue slowly or turn downward at any moment. Every person is different.

My mom has seemed okay for the most part. It’s good there are things to take care of. We were cleaning her things from her room yesterday with my cousin and so much of it was covered with dust. Out of nowhere the one sudden movement from my grandma was a loud sneeze. It made us laugh.

Today the worker from hospice told me the picture of my grandpa as a young soldier immediately made her think of me, because she noted where I had gotten my big brown eyes from. It meant so much because I was grandpa’s girl until the day he died years ago. I admire him so much and nobody has really told me that before. There have been times I’ve wished my eyes weren’t so big, but never again!

My mom and I decided we needed to put some music on for her today since hospice tells us she can still hear. Of course her choice would be hymns, but as I searched on her old radio I told her she was going have to settle with contemporary Christian. Shortly after my mom came back in Mercy Me’s “I Can Only Imagine” came on. (I believe it’s a great song, but the overplaying of it and its overkill in churches annoys me.) However, suddenly as the hospice worker excused herself and my mom found her place at her mom’s side the song became ours in that moment. I glanced out that window and saw cars pass by as everyone went about their lives as we all do. My eyes moved back to our quiet room. Her hours are dwindling in this world, but I am excited that what our earthly minds can only imagine she is about to realize.

My sister made it in tonight after her determined drive from Virginia. Everyone that is going to try to see her one last time has been here. We now wait for God’s time.

She’s my last grandparent and I grew up with her always being nearby, but I’m ready for God to have her with Him now.

The Politic Game

I have to say I’m getting sick of the political popularity game. Focus on cheap shots to undermine characters is not what interests me. An important election is ahead and a lot of issues are on the table, but media time and stories are wasted on misinterpreted comments (stupid or not) and popularity ratings. I know the current standing statistics of the candidates have a place in news, but I believe the issues themselves deserve greater reporting time. I’m not voting for homecoming king/queen; I’m voting for a new U.S. President! This is about America’s future, and speaking of America’s future, what example do these campaign tactics illustrate to young people that make up America’s future? Is this what we want portrayed by leadership?

Character is a central element, and in this large of a setting all details are important as we face November’s decision. However, a person’s character does not become greater by bringing discredit to another’s. It is strengthened by respectable talk, stance, and action. I am ashamed to have to say that my respect for much involved in all aspects of this race is not high.

This is not an attack on any party or reporter, but rather a thought about the whole state of this race.

Back in FL

Football season has begun. I was on the road Friday and Saturday and was stuck listening to the Gator game on the radio rather than watching it on TV. I was actually driving back down to Florida. I don’t think I have seen a Florida license plate since I left here in June. It may sound like a dumb, obvious observation since I was up north, but with Florida being such a tourist spot there are constantly drivers from all over the place here. Anyway, it was good to see other Florida plates again, and other Gator fans. I knew when I left my hotel Saturday morning I was rolling dice on hitting football traffic. Of course, the smart thing would have been to leave earlier, but I opted to sleep in a little. As I listened to the game on the radio I kept calculating the approximate time left and the miles I had to go. I knew I was in trouble when I saw the sign for 20 miles to Gainesville and the clock was winding down. I was fortunate as I passed through; the fans were just beginning to pour out on the roads. I wasn’t slowed down, but I was surrounded in a swamp of Gator fans. Never mind the Florida plates I had not seen all summer, I was now surrounded by FL Gator plates, flags and other car gear. Of course, my little car fit in with its blue paint and Gator plate frame.

So, now I am back in Florida, still praying something will work out soon. It’ll all happen as it is supposed to. It’s not easy to trust that, but one has to through faith.

I got to go to Merritt Island yesterday to watch my second cousin’s baseball game. His younger brother, Jonathan is even more of a baseball enthusiast. His mom was telling me that every Ray’s game that is on he is stationed with his glove in front of the TV to run the plays. Their dad is the Chaplain for the Devil Rays, and baseball was always his sport as he grew up in Miami. After the game the team was having a meeting in the outfield. Meanwhile, Jonathan was playing a full-blown imaginary game on the field. He would race to first. He was so accurate I was sucked into watching as if it were for real. Under the park lights his eyes shifted back and forth between the pitcher and batter as he played with the idea of stealing second. After another hit he began rounding the bases and watched his invisible ball being played in the outfield so he would know exactly how far to run. My favorite was his homerun hit. His mouth dropped in excitement and he trotted around the bases. I love watching kids when their imaginations are activated. It was especially crazy to me as I watched him and I could remember holding him as a newborn at my high school graduation. Seven years later there we were on that baseball field under bright lights and the warm Florida night.