Sorrow.

My grandmother was laid to rest on January 14th, next to my grandpa. The funeral service was very nice, if one can be. It was very personal, with laughter and lots of tears. My brother, sister, SIL, 2 cousins and I were the pallbearers. Our family is small, we were the only ones that there were really to pick from.

I still struggle with sadness from losing her. Not just her, but the people I've lost before her and the people I will lose before I die myself. The thought is terrifying to me. I know it is a part of life...but I hate it. I suppose we all do. I feel like I'm a really strong person in almost all things. I probably only cry twice a year under normal "life" circumstances. But the one area that I feel like a giant bowl of mush is in dealing with death and loss. I don't have the right tools in my tool box to fix that or deal with it properly. I feel helpless and angry.

My most significant losses prior to this were of my two best friends, Amy and Mike. I lost Amy when we were 25 to a car accident. I lost Mike when he was 32 to a heart attack (most likely brought on by the stress of finding out he had cancer). Mike is/was the God-father of my oldest daughter. And now my grandma. My grandma wasn't just someone I saw a few times a year. I lived with her when I was a young child (along with my mom), and then again when I was 21 until I bought my first home at age 24 or so. She loved me and supported me and all the things I wanted to do. We got along so well and she was the best cook ever. She was funny and kind. She knew practically everyone in the town we lived in. Even as life got crazy busy for me and she moved to a care facility, there was never a week that went by without us spending time with her. She leaves a hole in my heart.

I feel really bad for my mom and aunt M. too. They were with her each and every day. She was loved. They took care of her. Their lives were altered around her needs for the last few years. And now they don't have her to take care of. She was their mom...of my aunt A. too of course. I can't imagine the size of the hole that leaves. Even if there is some comfort in knowing she's done struggling.

Peace

My grandmother passed away late last night, shortly after I wrote the post about her. I'm relieved in a way so that now she can be in peace, but the sadness of losing her is settling in all of us. This is the first loss my kids have had of someone close to them. It's just hard. So hard.

Sadness.

This post is sad. And mostly for me. To vent. To get it out. You can skip it. I would if I were you.

My grandma is not going to make it. Everything went wrong for her. She developed pneumonia while she was in the hospital and everything just started piling up..as in she started down a road that is not she is not going to recover from. She's too weak, too fragile to save. She cannot physically handle the procedures that they would have had to do to save her if she were stronger. So they stopped. They are just trying to make her comfortable now. She's in hospice. It's bad. The worst.

I'm so sad and angry. I don't know why I'm angry...other than because she has to suffer. And I am not handling this well. I internalize the pain. With the kids and work I have places I need to be. Or excuses I can use. I'm alone in the office this week while my bosses are all out in DC. I have to handle everything. Part of me is thankful for the distraction. Part of me thinks I should be sitting in her room with her, holding her hand like my mom and aunt are. But I can't. Not because of work. I can't because I don't want to be there. It hurts too much. I don't want to see it. I don't want to watch the slow deterioration of life that is happening as we all sit around and wait...for death.

I have been there each day, but only briefly since Saturday. Today was the worst. It's like she's down to just the basic life functions, and they are becoming difficult too. Breathe in, breathe out. Labored. Gurgly. I can't stand it. The sound haunts me. I wanted to roll around on the floor and cry, scream, something. Every fiber of my being wanted to run from the room. I wanted to go out. To get away from the noise. From the sight. So frail. So...near death. But I just sat there. Trying to hold it in. Letting only a few tears escape down my cheeks. I kept the kids out in the waiting room. I want to shield them from this. They saw her yesterday. She was much more peaceful then. Now she is still asleep, but struggling.

I can't let it out of me. So stupid stuff happens. Like panic attacks where I feel like I'm having a heart attack. I stood outside in my nightgown for a good 10 minutes, freezing, just so I could feel something other than this suffocating feeling of hopelessness. I keep feeling like I'm getting numb. Literally, my face in patches and my legs feel numb like they're asleep. I don't know what the hell that is from, but I'm sure it is another way the stress is seeping out. I can cry while I sit here typing so this is probably good.

I guess I was hoping for a miracle. That they would take the life-saving measures away and something would kick in on it's own. She'd just wake up and eat and drink and get well. I was hanging on to that. But tonight, it's gone. There is no hope. There is only a small amount of time left and she will be here no more. It hurts. I know she'll be better off. I hold on to the thought that she'll be back with the man she loved so much, who was taken from her when he was just 47. My grandpa. I have to believe in that.

She has not been "well" for a few years now but even so every now and then you would catch a glimpse of that feisty Norwegian woman who made me laugh and loved me so much. I could feel it...in everything she did. From saving the ends of her famous ginger snap cookie dough for me to helping with tuition at college. My oldest daughter and I lived with her until I was able to buy my first home. She loved us being with her. I used to love taking her out to eat and the kids adored their "Nana B". She loved me and I will miss her for the rest of my life. I pray for peace for her. For the end of her suffering. If she cannot get well, please let her go peacefully.

My Grandmother

My grandma got out of the hospital just after Christmas and ended up back in there this week. Another medication issue...this time much worse than last. She's not out of the woods yet. I feel so awful for her. Her face and tongue were so swollen she couldn't shut her mouth...she had trouble breathing and everything. Some allergic reaction to some medication. She's on so many. I don't know how my mom and aunt M. find the strength to handle the stress of watching their mother go through that. It's hard for me and I'm not nearly as involved as they are. I feel guilty about that...not being able to share the...what's the word? Responsibility? I work so much and have the 3 kids to take care of. But I think part of me doesn't want to be there either...I want to cry all the time when I see her like that. It sounds so selfish. It's not practical for me to hang out there though...by the time I get home from work and get the kids some supper it's after 7. But still, I feel like I should be doing more.

I went to see her last night...she was pretty good when we were there...the swelling had gone down from when I was there the day before. But today was worse again. She has fluid building up. Please, pray for my sweet grandma Berit. I hate seeing her suffer so much and I just want her to get better. I love her so much it hurts.

I was touched by the crotcheted "prayer shawl" that was on her lap in the hospital. I'm not sure when she received it, but she knew that one of the pastors at church had brought it to her. I had never heard of a prayer shawl. As I sat there with her I looked at that hand made mini-blanket and imaged the hands of the person who made it. I wondered about the prayers that were said as it was made and designated. I felt some comfort with that laying over her as she lay there so frail...almost like it is proof of God's love draped over her. I am grateful to the person who made it and the church for bringing it over.

I hate crying. I have a headache and a lump in my throat when I think about it. MK is having a really hard time with it too. She wrote a very touching poem about her. She speaks on paper what my heart couldn't put into words so well. I'm not ready to lose her and I'm scared. More scared than I ever have been before. There was just something about the look in her eyes. Please pray for her. Thank you.