Grandma
She lay very still in the hospital bed. Tubes in her nose, and in her left hand. The sound of beeping breaking the silence of the room. It was disturbing and very real. Grandma was dying. These machines were attempting to keep her alive. They were losing. Grandma was 90 years old and caught COVID-19 and she was trying to breath for her life.
Dad had called me yesterday saying that she probably didn’t have much longer. She had asked for me. Would I go see her? Did I want company? You’re so quiet, are you still there?
It was hard to hear that my grandma didn’t have much time left. It seemed like just days ago grandma was healthy, looked younger than she was, and able to function on her own.
As I stood there it was grim, ominous and utterly hopeless. Everything became sharply in focus and it became unbearably warm in the sterile, cold room.
I was hoping grandma would be awake when I arrived, but she was sleeping. Her breast heaved as her body tried to get enough oxygen. My memories took over as a survival mechanism. I couldn’t stand seeing my grandma this way.
I was five years old when my grandma had my brother and I exercising on the floor. My grandma wanted to do something with us while entertaining us and tiring us out at the same time, if that was possible. Well, she came up with something pretty quick. As soon as my grandma said the word ‘exercise’, we didn’t want anything to do with it. But she had a way of convincing us at least to try doing ‘bicycles’ on the floor in record time. We didn’t realize exercising could be fun.
We went to grandma’s house for a week in the summer when I was ten, my brother only eight. My grandma had come up with a good idea that got us excited. Let’s go for a picnic! Grandma had suggested that we plan today and go tomorrow. She wanted to bake some cupcakes for us to take on the picnic. We gladly helped her make them as we thought of how fun the picnic was going to be. That next morning we were in for a rude awakening. Grandma told us to look outside. We did. It was pouring rain. We hung our heads in disappointment. My grandma saw how sad we were and suggested that we have a picnic indoors. At first, that didn’t sound like a very good idea. After all, we usually ate in the kitchen already. But grandma put a twist on the idea, how about making a tent using a blanket and the kitchen chairs in the kitchen and we’d eat inside it? We started to get excited once more. We went to work immediately so we could have our indoor picnic. We had a blast!
A flash of a memory thrust itself into my mind as a picture of my grandparents being frightened briefly when I answered the door wearing a dinosaur mask for my birthday…
The day we buried my grandfather…I wanted something to remember him by. What I wanted was his cologne because scent is the fastest way to relive times with a lost loved one. I had a hard time asking her because I could see she was suffering from the loss. But when I did, she was more than gracious. I still have the cologne to date. I used it sparingly when I want to feel close to him for a while.
There was the time my great-grandma had called for us when we were visiting my grandma. It was a cool May day and I wore my dearly loved pink jacket. I thought that with it I could be a pink lady from the movie, Grease. Grandma took us over for a visit with a purpose. We were asked to help in the garden. Great-grandma needed help hoeing. We learned how to hoe and grandma made it fun by singing as we worked. It helped us keep the rhythm as much as it made it fun.
Afterwards, we had some toast with margarine and jam. And great-grandma gave us a haircut as only she knew how to. The infamous ‘bowl cut’. Seriously. My mother has never forgotten that incident because of how well it turned out. Or rather, how well it didn’t turn out.
But that day was seared in my brain because of another reason. One we didn’t know about until the next day. Grandma received a phone call from her sister telling her that her mother had passed away from a stroke. They had found her ‘gone’ in the bedroom. The very next day. She was wearing a beautiful heart-shaped locket. Grandma had requested the locket as it had been in the family for generations. That was the first time I saw my grandma cry. I remember it scaring me a little. As if something was so bad, that even adults couldn’t handle it.
Grandma once told me when she was in her mid-70s that nothing that happened on earth surprised her anymore. That comment had surprised me and had made me wonder if that was because she “saw it all” or because she became a bit callous to the things she heard and saw.
Grandma was born on May 12, 1930 on the family farm. She saw so many positive things happen in her lifetime. She saw silent films and “talkies” when they first came out, including the masterpiece, The Wizard Of Oz, in colour!, rather than the black and white that would continue until the 1960s. TVs were made and placed into every home. And on that TV, she saw when man first went to the moon! The invention of computers, though she never used one for work nor did she have one for personal use. She remained on the farm until she met my grandpa. They fell in love and married. She worked with him when he opened up his own gas station. Once that was sold, she worked at H&R Block until she retired. Always wanting to remain active, she did Income Tax Returns as a volunteer. It was hard to imagine that while people her age were living and providing for their family, there were those going to school to be astronauts!
Something caught my attention and my memories evaporated like a morning mist in July. I saw my grandma staring at me. Staring at me hard trying to get my attention in the only way she could.
“Hi grandma…” I gushed as I drew closer to her bed so I could be directly beside her. I didn’t finish my sentence and wasn’t sure how to. Usually I’d ask her how she was, but that was inappropriate now; she was dying. Death seemed to pollute the air and hovered over grandma. It was also in every breathe the machine made her take; in and out.
At first, I felt lost in what to do or say. So I simply took her hand in mine. She shuffled slowly over so she was to one side of the bed. It was obvious that she wanted me to sit beside her. I did. In my head I thought, ‘grandma, grandma, grandma, what are we going to do with you? How did we come to this point? Ah yes, the passage of time. The ravenous wolf who lurks to take us all’.
She aged so well that she never looked her age. Ever since she was a senior, she felt other seniors were too old for her to hang out with. When people didn’t believe how old she was, she’d proudly pull out her driver’s licence. Well, she looked her age now and it wasn’t a nice thing to see. Most people not only want their grandparents to live forever, but not to look like they’re aging either. And it’s even worse when it’s your parents. I didn’t have any kids, I wasn’t even married, but if I did, I’d think that the worry would be the opposite. That your children make you feel old and you wouldn’t want them to have to live without you.
“Sar…ah…”she spoke. I had no idea what she wanted to tell me. It belaboured her breathing and took a lot out of her to speak. I didn’t want her to continue if it was so hard for her, but it must be important.
“Yes, gram?”
“You…came…” It was barely more than a whisper. Her breathing was louder, but I heard it.
“Of course, gram!” How could I explain how important she was to me? That I couldn’t let her pass without seeing her for the final time? Thinking of the finality of her life coming to an end made me feel cold inside. I felt warm and then cold and wondered if I was going to pass out. But I didn’t.
Her eyes fell to the heart-shaped locket she had given me when I was in high school. She seemed happy that I still wore it. Her free hand went to hold it to look at it. Inside was a picture of her and grandpa. She tried to open it on her own, but couldn’t. She indicated she wanted me to do it. So I popped it open for her thinking she wanted to see the picture. She looked up at me and then at the door as if she wanted to make sure no one was coming. No one was. Her eyelids fluttered as she smiled in spite of the pain. At first, I thought she was trying to look at the picture, but pretty quickly I saw that she was trying to remove it.
“No, gram…” she looked up at me and nodded. I thought it was odd but I didn’t stop her. You don’t stop dying people from doing what they want to do in the time they have left. She scratched out the picture and behind it was this glowing green emerald. Glowing? It sure looked that way. As if it was from another realm. I started to think that it was. How else would it exist?
“That’s beautiful, gram…” thinking she wanted me to know what the locket held so I’d make sure not to give it away. It was weird, what happened next. Almost indescribable. The stone started to blaze like it was a green fire and shone around the room. Everything was cast in green or reflected it. I started to feel weird. Almost surreal. I had a hard time breathing. I fainted.
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I woke up with a nurse peering down over me. She helped me off the floor.
“What happened?” I asked, a little confused.
“You fainted, honey”.
“Ohh…” The nurse helped me back up and into a chair. There was grandma lying peacefully. She looked asleep, but something was not quite right. The nurse saw I was looking at grandma and explained, “She’s gone, honey. I think you fainted at the same time. How do you feel now?”
“I’m ok.” I said as I felt my strength coming back. I saw my necklace hanging around my neck, and tucked it into my shirt. I wanted it close.
“All the same, would you like a glass of water?”
“Yes, that would be nice, thank you.”
The nurse left the room. Grandma sure looked old. Her hands all veiny and wrinkled. I looked at the back of my hand. It was smooth and all the veins were hidden by flesh. Youth. It was nice. It felt…good to be young. Amazing, actually. I took in a deep breath, pain free. Another favour of youth. I’m getting used to this.
The nurse came back with the water and I drank it down quickly. My throat was dry. That hit the spot. “Thanks. That helped.”
“Are you going to be ok?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine.” ...I won’t have to dye my hair for a few years at least… “I’d better go. I’ve got to tell my sss….father and start making arrangements.”
“Take care then.”
“You, too.”
I walked out of the hospital in my own strength. My legs thin and long. It’s been a while since walking was so effortless. I smiled.
