It seems as though writing is the only way I can full process things. I can't talk the way I can write, plus, the past few days have just about been more than I can fully bear, and today I just need solitude to grieve. Just me and my "paper and pen".
I've been mourning since May. That's when grandpa wasn't strong enough mentally and physically to remain at home for grandma to care for him. He ended up in the Macon nursing home. I went through and have gone through many feelings over this. Although logically I completely understood, it was also a huge life change and in that moment I knew nothing would ever be the same.
For anyone who doesn't know, I grew up at grandma's house. My parents lived next door, and my grandpa and dad worked at the body shop they had on my grandparent's property for over 45 years. Grandma watched my sister and I from birth until we got to be teenagers and could drive and care for ourselves. Every sick day, every meal, every snack....all with grandma while my parents worked full-time. Even after every day all day at grandma's we'd still sigh when mom would walk in the door to pick us up every evening. We even got picked up and dropped off the bus at her house every single day. Really until I graduated, grandma never had a break from raising kids. My youngest uncle Danny graduated when I was in first grade, so he was still at home even while she watched us. She had five kids of her own, and then us. And never ever ever once did I hear her complain or rarely even raise her voice. She took time to teach us to sew, garden, cook, bake, clean, and care for dogs as she raised them for extra income at the time. My childhood was really the greatest I could ever ask for.
He was always a jokester. Christmastime especially. Someone was always getting a gag gift or something wrapped in a way that it would take them the entire day to open it. But he was also the best woodworker I've seen. The things he'd make are incredible, and I'm very proud to have many of those things, including a doll bed that my girls now play with. Also, I'm pretty sure all of us have ended up with a stuffed animal bigger than our body at one point or another.
Every day at lunch she would make a huge meal and my grandpa and dad would come in at noon on the dot to eat. Grandpa taught me to love macaroni and cheese mixed with ham/soup beans. In the early years, he would also offer me "chocolate" aka, his chewing tobacco. As a joke of course. Thankfully he gave that up later down the road. I still remember grandma having to buy it at Wal-Mart though when we'd go to town for errands. Always in a rush since dinner had to be on the table by noon.
My grandpa didn't truly come to know the Lord until later in his life. Up until that point, I don't remember "I love you" or many positive words coming from him. He sure made up for that later, though. Especially when my kids came along. There was never a shortage of hugs, rubs, I love you and I'm proud of you to go around. And there were NEVER empty hands leaving his house without being full of candy and some for the road.
You see, until the shop closed, I didn't get a lot of quality time with my grandpa. He worked 8-5 and they took those hours very seriously and we didn't bother them. When that closed, I made every effort to make a weekly visit to their house where we'd have the best quality time. A couple of winters, I'd help them put together some puzzles they'd worked on together while we'd talk and listen to bluegrass music. We went to pick strawberries at the strawberry farm, and go to Edina to the plant nursery. I'd ride the gator with them to feed the fish and join in on whatever they were doing at the time. My family would too. So many porch sits while the girls blew bubbles and we all watched the hummingbirds.
A lot of people understand what it feels like to watch someone you love decline. My grandpa was diagnosed with dementia and he was truly devastated. There were moments to me where that showed, but honestly, I can say that we truly never got to experience the very late stage dementia. He knew us everytime we were around, and I can't imagine how heartbreaking it would be to see that part go.
When he went to the nursing home, I held onto hope that MAYBE, just maybe he could come home. The thought of him not being able to say goodbye to the place he loved and everything he worked for ripped me apart in a million ways. The first few times walking in to their house and not getting his hug or to see him in his recliner or dining room chair was gut wrenching. Everything was the same in the house, but it isn't the house that holds the love and memories, its the person themself. Although he wasn't gone yet, life as I knew it all these years had just shifted in a way that I couldn't fully process. Months went by where we tried to get to Macon weekly, while also trying to make sure I still saw my grandma just as much. Thankfully, grandma got to get back into church again and started going with us, where I get to sit by her each Sunday, I and I do not take that for granted at all.
I hated the nursing home. And he did too. So much guilt rattled me and there were times where I'd even tried to consider ways to take him into our house, but it just wasn't feasible. He always kept his spirits high with our visits and we'd always come bearing Dairy Queen or freeze dried caramel m&m's--his new favorite. He loved my girls with all his heart and loved seeing them. If Justin or I would ever come on our own, his first question would be "where are the girls?"
Speaking of Justin, there just aren't words for the bond those two created. Grandpa would talk to Justin like he wouldn't talk to many other people. Justin invested in him. He was always willing to help and genuinely cared about grandpa's interests and hobbies. Justin made sure to get childhood stories and memories out of him. He also loved guns and bluegrass, two things they both shared. He heard stories about each gun and each tractor that he restored. Grandpa had such a deep connection with him that I just can't even describe. My grandpa definitely didn't take to just anyone. You were either "approved" or not approved. And Justin was from the very beginning.
These last days when he took a turn and we were told he wasn't going to make it were by far the hardest days of my life. A week ago Friday, he had been released from the Columbia hospital after making a recovery we weren't sure he was going to make. But he wasn't the same. We visited him that day after Justin's appt in Jefferson City. His speech was off, but he was still sitting up and talking to us as normal. Before we left, he expressed how good a sausage pizza would be and "whatever else you want on it". I'm sad to say, that sausage pizza never happened. Although we thought he was getting better, he landed back in the ER this past Tuesday evening where we were told his brain bleed was larger. Surgery was an option but super risky, and the dr wanted to try meds instead. The problem is, he could no longer swallow. This is God's timing--not ours. The family, all gathered for Christmas at grandma's got a call that he was not well. the sons and Justin and grandma all went to visit. It was agonizing not knowing what was going on. Once Justin told me he wasn't going to make it, I broke. Anyone that knows me knows I just don't cry. But once I do, that gate doesn't close for awhile. I sobbed in the hallway, and then with my cousin in the spare bedroom. Once the boys arrived back, nobody spoke about it. We all got ready to leave and I hugged my grandma good-bye. She is the strongest woman I know. I stepped back, sobbing, looked into her eyes and saw the grief and hugged her again, tighter. Then came my uncle James. Oh, my sweet uncle James. I have such a heart for both of my young uncles, James and Danny. I hugged him and sobbed. He held me in a way I cannot even describe to you--head cradle and all, expressing how much he loved me and how we're going to get through this. These are the times I cannot even express to you that I'm thankful to have such a loving and tight-knit family. The hug held me through.
The next day, Justin took me to see grandpa. He warned me ahead of time it wouldn't be a fun visit. Knowing this, I also knew I couldn't shy away just when things got hard and in his last days. He deserved his family. He was sleeping when we arrived, but quickly woke up to our touch. With tears in my eyes I greeted him, and he couldn't respond. But I cannot even express the eye contact he gave. He was for sure speaking through his eyes. We both tried to listen to his cues of what he wanted and needed, eventually getting him sat up and moved to the chair. He would grab our hands and faces and responded mostly to Justin still. At that time, my grandma and James were meeting with hospice. Grandpa had finally got comfortable and was resting when they came into the room. The hospice nurse gave the words "two weeks or less" and I broke yet again, knowing in reality it would be much less than that. I just knew it. grandma grabbed my hand and held onto me--another comfort I can't even describe. My aunt Kamden prayed over him and all of the grief in these moments I could feel the Lord so deeply. Justin and I left to get some lunch and air and let their family have their time before they headed back home to KC. Once we arrived back to check in again, he was up and restless again. Once comfortable again, and more family members arrived, we headed home to tell the girls and give them the option to say good-bye. One wanted to, and one preferred not to. Back to Macon we headed, where my sister had been there for awhile and kept Brynlee in the hallway with her. He was asleep but woke again. We got him to the chair again and once calmed, he made notions that he was ready to get back in bed. Myself, my sister and cousin were all in the room and we decided to move him ourselves because that stubborn man was determined he was going to stand up. I lifted him up and we all cheered for him and he smiled right at me. I can't even tell you how much that meant. That was the first and only emotion we'd gotten. We all worked together and got him comfortable where he fell fast asleep again and we all felt safe to head home.
The next day, we'd planned Christmas with my parents. Nothing felt okay, but grandma was there too and we were together. We all had decided to head down to see him again. My mom, dad, grandma and I all rode together and my sister met us down there. They said he'd been very restless all day, but when we got there he was fast asleep. Little did we know, he wouldn't wake up again.
We each took turns sitting by him and sobs filled the room. I watched my dad break in a way I'd truly never seen before. There were two strong men sitting together, who had spent more hours together than anyone else. Working alongside each other since dad was old enough to turn a wrench.
We reluctantly left again that evening. The next morning was Sunday. I could not handle going to church. Everytime someone would talk to me, let alone hug me I'd sob. I'd cried a river at this point. We also had Justin's family Christmas that afternoon. My plan was to go in the morning and still go to Christmas. I got there, alone in the room with grandpa, and I knew that was likely the day. I couldn't leave.
Throughout the day, more and more family arrived. Recently over the years, my little God wink signs that He is near have been butterflies. This past year I have looked for them. Even Friday during Justin's follow up appt, I asked for a butterfly and found one later that day. On this day, our nurse for the day walked in and her scrubs were fully butterflies. It is no accident, and I could feel His presence in the room. Even in the pain, God shows up. It is also no accident that I, along with many other family members have been off around the holidays to be able to be present. God has always known the days that Grandpa had.
That day was almost more than I could bear. At one point, I had decided to go home, but then after driving around and getting some air, I felt a pull that I just couldn't leave-so I didn't. His room was packed to the gills with his loving family. When I say I am blessed to have such a wonderful, big family-that is not an exaggeration. Grandpa would agree. What he and grandma raised up was incredible. A family to know and love the Lord through the generations. And we all love one another.
Late in the evening, a majority of family said their final good-byes and headed home. Grandma, James, Kamden and Danny all stayed with him. Around 3:15ish, he passed peacefully. He is healed and no longer hurting, rejoicing with our Savior.
There's something so painful about the thought of never having one of his big hugs, back rubs, hearing his laugh or hearing "you don't have to rush off", or "come back and see me!" again. I will always look for a perfectly mowed lawn, never even think about driving a car on a said perfectly mowed lawn, and I will never ever look at M&M's the same. I will buy my family the jumbo size barrell of cheeseballs in your honor, despite how they make me cringe over the red dye. There was never a moment my kids, or husband, left without handfuls of candy or cheeseballs. And whenever my hibiscus plant blooms, I will always remember that you gave me a start from your plant.
I know where my dad got his goofy sense of humor, and how in photos both of you were either serious, or looking ridiculous when told to "smile". I will never ever regret all the pictures I took, even though you despised things being posted on social media. You softened so much over the years. Thank you for approving of Justin and loving him as your own grandson. You have no idea what your relationship with him meant to him.
Thank you for buying me payday candy bars once you found out they're my favorite. And for the coffee cup as big as my head. Most of all, thanks for letting us all play with your hair growing up, and for allowing my girls to do the same.
We will take care of the things you worked so hard to maintain, and most importantly, we will take care of grandma. I'm so thankful we have the hope of Heaven ahead and we will "see you soon". Thank you for instilling a hard work ethic in me, and passing along some artistic and creative genes down to dad and then to me. Nothing will ever be the same without you. We have the hole in our hearts, while you're now whole in heaven.
I love you, Grandpa.
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