Notes from Grandma’s Last Days

These notes were taken while I was with Grandma and edited. So, the timing may seem odd.
Here are my thoughts...

I want to note, that the last few times I went to visit Grandma, I wanted so much to have the opportunity to pray with her.

This never happened and I felt badly. But, when she was in the hospital, Pastor Roger from Calvary Lutheran Church came to see her twice. I know this is their shtick, but in any case, the Lutherans really know how to care for their flock.

She was awake and conscious and he took her hand and prayed with her. I could tell it meant a lot to her. In his prayer, he thanked Jesus for their special relationship. He said that he knows she trusts him and asked that she be assured that Jesus will take her hand and walk her into heaven when the time came. He said, that Jesus will be there, so there’s no need to fear. These were better than any words I might have dared to pray with my Grandmother.

After this, it seemed Grandma was getting better. I left for home as dad was coming to stay with her and I assumed Grandma would recover to a point and then be put into a nursing home to convalesce. Ron, my uncle was there as he lives there. A few days later, she had taken a turn for the worse and was put into the Intensive Care Unit. She seemed to recover some after some care, and was out of immediate danger, and then put in a different room. My dad was there for a few days, and it seemed again she was improving, so he left for Arizona. I returned to Grand Forks as I felt Ron needed help, and I didn’t want him to be alone caring for her. His own wife has been ill. Also, Sandi, Ron’s daughter, would be coming in late that day.

Grandma was in her last days, in her hospital bed and I sat next her. I read an end of life pamphlet left in the room by hospice for the loved ones to read. Ron went home after I arrived and Sandi would come in soon.

Grandma’s awake, but is in the separation stage according to the pamphlet it appears. She isn’t conscious of me being there. One foot is in heaven and the other lingers here. She seems to be seeing or observing something, as she gets expressions now and again on her face that are close to yearning, close to a smile of recognition. Like she’s about to say something, but as always in her quiet nature she abstains. The book says that sometimes people in the last stages of life seem to see their loved ones passed and talk to them.

Grandma has tubes in her nose, tubes in her arms and tubes in her urinary tract. They aren’t bothering her. She hasn’t eaten much for days, again a normal part of the transition. She is also not on any medication. I like that they call death the transition. It’s nicer than death, doesn’t sound so harsh and final.

There she is smiling again. Seriously, she didn’t look old until now. She has been so well kept. Even the nurses and doctors couldn’t believe she is 97. They always commented on how good she looked. Her hair didn’t get washed and curled last Friday. That’s her day. I’ve decided in her memory, that I too will have my hair washed and styled every Friday as long as I can. I’ve made arrangements already and they’re charging me $30. I’m getting cheaper like her too! Watching where every cent goes.

There are machines in the room, but none hooked up except the oxygen. They will not resuscitate, only keep her comfortable. She is not in any pain. I have a hard time believing it, as her lung is collapsed, her heart and kidneys failing. But these things are all part of life; the transition part.

My cousin is flying up from Florida today. She arrives tonight. She’s coming in like the cavalry to arrange for the memorial and to organize the removal of Grandma’s things from the apartment. I find this conflicting, but am ever grateful to her for taking this on. She said Uncle Ronnie was overwhelmed and was in tears when she told him she was coming. Her sisters live in Fargo but are involved with caretaking their mother who had a stroke. Sandi was the obvious choice and it's great she has come help.

I’m conflicted about going through Grandma’s things because she isn’t dead yet and if I know anything about her, she will defy death as long as she can, even though she is ready to go. And, there's always the sense that she doesn’t want you touching her things. This has always been understood and a matter of respect for her.

She’s ready to go spiritually, mentally and now physically. I sort of get the feeling she’s just testing us all to see what we will do when she dies. Like, who will be the first to want to go through and divide up her things? Well, I admit to thinking about it also. Not wanting her things, because I have too many things of my own. But, it would be nice to have a small remembrance and something for my kids or grandkids. She would think  it tasteless. She actually held her things close to herself. She never really shared well, not herself or her things. I was always clumsy about her things and she was a good steward. She washed and ironed sheets and  most likely underwear I am sure. That generation cared for their things with much more pride because they grew up with so little. Each item had value and was cared for. Me ? Not so much as one stroke with the iron on a sheet of any sort. Not Ever. I even think she resented that I didn’t put the Grand Forks Herald sections back in order after I read them. Seriously, I realized this later on and started putting them back in order after reading. But, really who cares? Grandma Ethel, that’s who.

So, now she doesn’t have her teeth in and I find it bothers me. Not because I care how it looks, but I know she cares about these things. I know she is very careful and always has been about her appearance. She’s always been beautiful and as with her things, she’s always cared for herself. Even now I want to take the worn polish off her nails and put on new: Red. Well, Ok, maybe clear. I don’t know how she’d feel about going before the Lord with Red nail polish on her fingers and toes. I did this the evening she died. I removed the pink that was worn, and put on clearthat I had with me as I had wanted to do my own.

Without her teeth her face folds. This is one of the important things about teeth. They help us chew our food, but they also keep our face formed. Her face falls now below the nose. So much so that when I came to see her the first day when she was awake and lucent, I was sure that I had the wrong room. I went in and looked at the old woman in the bed and didn’t recognize the woman. I left immediately to look at the name on the door, and went out again to get the nurse in a panic. I was sure that wasn’t my grandma. She looked like a totally different woman being barely 100 pounds, her head tilted back in the bed and wrinkled mouth hanging open. She did have the bottom teeth in as no one knew how to take them out. So, her face was not as sunken as it could have been.

I know the nurses wondered about me and may have even thought I was some long lost gold digger who barely knew the woman as I didn’t recognize her. Maybe I was a total stranger and just wanted to steal her stuff? I would have been very suspicious. But, seriously, this woman sleeping, toothless and frail, thin as a rail looked nothing like my Grandma. And I just saw her last month.

But it was indeed her. She has lost more weight. Another part of the transition is that you stop wanting to eat. Apparently the appetite and taste buds go, so the desire for food leaves and you crave liquids. 
Well, now that my cousin is coming to get things in order I feel better. I hope she is good with dying. I know she has worked with the elderly for years, but I don’t know her familiarity with “the transition”. We will see and I will be the first to step aside. She knows Grandma well, as a matter of fact, as her oldest granddaughter, the daughter she never had, I venture to say Sandi is my Grandma’s favorite. She was always so proud of her and beamed when she called on the phone. Sandi came to see Grandma a couple times a year. She’d fly to this barren Grand Forks from Fort Myers Florida. Only love would make her do that.

That night I stayed with Grandma in the hospital room until about 11 waiting for Sandi. Grandma was awake for quite some time and she was agitated. Grandma began to talk and then shouted, “Can’t you just let me up to go pee for Christ’s sake?” She really wanted to get out of bed and get out of that place. Later, after she had lain awake for quite some time staring out into the next world, she again got irritated and agitated. I think she may have had some pain, but she was confused as well.

“Let me get out of here. Why are you keeping me here? “You’re poking me in the back.”

The elderly and infirm often get agitated at night, anxious, fearful. She just finished getting very upset and wanted to get out of here. “This isn’t my place; take me to my place for God’s Sake. I know, I can see it over there.” She pointed to the television.

And then sadly, she started crying because I wouldn’t help her get out of bed. Apparently this too is part of the transition. It’s a part I am not fond of. When I was here last time, her last words to me were “I love you too.” I am sad this is part of my last experiences with her even though she didn’t mean it. I told her I would call her when I arrived home so she wouldn't worry. I called the nurse and had her relay the message for me.

The, “I love you too” was the memory I wanted. But, she needs me here now, I know it and so I am here. I will force myself to forget her confusion and bewilderment and tears of her frustration.

The nurse came in with an injection to calm her. She immediately when to sleep; and now she lays, eyes closed, mouth open, breathing quietly, toothless.

Day 2: Sandi and Judee, two of the cousins arrive. Sandi got in late and went to stay with a friend. It’s nice to see them. I don’t see them often, and I hope that will change. I am hearing more loving stories from my cousins about what a great grandma Ethel was to them. I imagine she would have been that to us, but we lived far away and I am guessing. The stories are so delightful. Grandma apparently sewed the girls all their clothes from scratch, coats, dresses and costumes.

I guess the girls were in tap dance; all three of them, and Grandma sewed all their clothes. She never used a pattern, but would from a picture pull together pieces from other patterns and make exactly what she saw. She made them their tap dance outfits for the recitals. They all still have their outfits…Judee framed Pam’s for her.

Sandi even remembers the skit and showed a little of it to us right here in the hospice room. The Pastor was there and said that’s something she had never seen in a hospice room. Sandi said she sewed all of the girls’ prom and wedding dresses, even the bride’s maid’s dresses. She was a loving example of a Grandma. Maybe from afar, this is who I learned from? I guess I had two wonderful Grandmothers in my life, Grandma Clara and Grandma Ethel.

The Pastors from the Church were wonderful. When I arrived there a day before there was a woman who came to do a visitation from Calvary Lutheran Church ministries. She told me that Grandma Ethel was their oldest member. Pastor Troy Truftgruben and Pastor Christine Swensen-Schmitt both knelt at her bedside and prayed. When I was there with Sandi and Judee and Ron, Pastor Christine prayed with all of us and then walked over to Grandma’s bed, took her hand and began to sing to her: Quietly and Gently Jesus is Calling, Calling for you to come home… etc. etc.

I was moved to tears. What a beautiful thing to do and to think they do it to all those who are in hospice. The Pastor was here to discuss arrangements. It feels funny talking about Grandma like she’s not in the room. I know she hears us. She became restless, so it makes me wonder if she knew we were talking about her dying and arrangements.

Also, Judee is telling stories about when Grandma and Grandpa were in Lakota and they had a job at the undertakers. I guess Grandpa rode along with the undertaker in a suit and Grandma did the makeup. Ron doesn’t know anything about that. I guess the relatives teased Grandpa and called him Digger.

Judee and I remember driving in the car with all the cousins, I think we were in the station wagon we had with the back seat that faced backwards. Pam, Cheryl Judee and I were singing the kids funeral dirge: “The worms go in, the worms go out, the worms play Pinochle on your snout.” I can’t remember the rest of the song… but it’s funny Judee and I remember it.

Early Afternoon: The nurses are giving her a bath…it reminds me of washing the body after death as they used to do in Biblical times. They handle her body as if it’s a surf board; turning it this way, turning it that way. She had her hair washed and it is now very curly. I removed her fingernail polish and I put on clear. She is resting very quietly now. She must have gotten worn out from the bath.

Sandi and Judee are off to the apartment to try to find Grandma’s purse. They are also going through her things. This part makes me feel badly. Can’t we at least wait until she is dead? I won't pass judgment. They have always laid much greater claim to Grandma and Grandpa than us. Ron and Gladys lived near Grandma and Grandpa in their formative years; they lived on the farm right next door. They were all much more a part of Grandma and Grandpas life for most of their young years. So, they have call for a greater claim.

I came in to my close relationship with Grandma and Grandpa as an adult and most recently by default. I loved my grandparents very much and would always visit them in Arizona. Dennis and I stayed there a few times and they took us to Superstition Mountain and Lake Havasu. We enjoyed them and always looked in on them when we were there. My girls drove them to Arizona in their later years. They were great grandparents to us. I loved them and now see that I think in truth. My dad was also trying to make his mark in the world and distance didn’t encourage close ties. We went their yearly for vacations and tried in the early years to go on holidays. I guess we tried, my parents had them care for us when they went on trips. That was nice bonding time. I remember they took us to Milaca where one of Grandma’s brothers had a bar. This was common profession in the family I guess. Dad and Ron lived in the bar of Grandma Trenda’s while attending high school. I think Vendal owned the bar in Whitman too for a time. So, bars were a part of our life growing up.

Later on in life, while again my dad was in Arizona with Gina, Grandpa was diagnosed with a brain tumor. There were no nursing homes with open beds that could take him for convalescent care in North Dakota, and so Dad and I arranged for him to be transported to Sauk Rapids, near St. Cloud. That was not ideal, and I think it made Grandma feel badly, not to be close to home, but it was the best we could do for him and at least he would be close to family who could visit him daily. We all went to see him, all my siblings and my mom, my cousins, even Sandi flew in. He ended up dying in St. Joseph at dad’s assisted living. I was with him along side Grandma, Dad, Ronnie and Gina when he took his last breath. I comforted him with the encouraging words and told him that we would take care of Grandma for him, that he didn’t have to worry. Since, I have done my best to be with her, love her and in return, I have a wonderful closeness to my grandmother. I’ve gotten to know her and love her in a deep and satisfying way. I am so pleased to have honored her in life and now in death. I am going to miss her terribly.

Being very involved in Grandpa’s death, and promising to take care of Grandma, I feel I have kept my promise and gained a close and loving relationship with my Grandma. It’s been such a wonderful experience. I feel as if I have fulfilled my promised to Grandpa made on his deathbed, but I have been given an everlasting reward of knowing the lovely woman who was my grandmother. She was amazing.

She was kind. She spoke her mind directly and sometimes brusquely, but as long as I knew her she never spoke badly of others. There were never any gossip or negative words for people in her life. She spoke sparingly. She was a quiet woman by nature. She was content to sit and not talk. She wasn’t shy, but didn’t have much use for words. This baffled people and it made them uncomfortable. But, it was just who she was. She wasn’t shy, she wasn’t timid. She was just quiet and had little use for words.

My daughter, Lasha, loved Grandma and Grandma dearly. She spent her college years here and took to visiting Grandma and Grandpa very often. They loved her too. Gabe, or first grandson, was born here so they got to be with him a bit before the kids graduated and moved away. Lasha always tried to keep in touch and had a special place in her heart for Grandma and Grandpa. When Gabe started talking, he would call her Grandma Apple.

All the professionals here say Grandma will die in the next day or two… I will go home and come back for the weekend if need be. These were my plans. Dad had returned to Arizona. No one knew how long it would really be, so he left. He hired a private jet to take him to Grand Forks from Sunday to Tuesday. She was in ICU, but after she was transferred back up to a room, he decided to go back home. There was no telling when she would pass. Well, it seemed clear it would be soon, so I called him and told him it was probably a good idea to come back. He was upset he’d left in the first place. In a show of no taste or tact, I texted him a photo of Grandma in bed with Ron in the chair alongside him with the caption: She’s not coherent, but makes sounds now and again. They sound a bit like, “where’s Norm.” He was offended. But, I was only half kidding. He booked his tickets and came back on Thursday at about 7 p.m.

Well, Dad arrived. Grandma knows he’s here and she started stirring a bit. That’s nice to see. He is definitely the baby in the family. There’s just something about that baby. Gina came too. They are both spending time alone with her now. A bit later he came to find me and apparently Gina left him alone too. She went somewhere else, couldn’t find me, not sure why. So she found some other visitor’s room.

It was apparent Grandma had waited to die until after her sons were both with her.

Dad was ill and threw up voraciously in the hospital room bathroom and made a huge mess. Gina says its grief and stress. Dad says its Lettuce wrap from Flo’s. Anyway, how can a hospital not have housekeeping on staff in the night to clean this up? It’s the same hospital that doesn’t have coffee carafes.  

At the encouragement of Sandi, Ron and Norm, I wrote Grandma’s obituary today. It was nice recapping in short prose the essence of her life. Here it is:

….Ethel will be remembered as industrious and resourceful both on the farm and in the home. But, mostly, she will be remembered as a loving, thoughtful, kind and caring wife, mother, grandmother, aunt and friend. The people she touched throughout her life will remember her for her quiet, gentle strength, her kindness and speaking well of others and her generosity in simple, practical ways. In the early years, she cheerfully cooked meals for field workers and quietly shared with others in need. When her family grew, she cared for her granddaughters, handily sewing their dresses, coats and costumes. All her life, she cared for friends and neighbors and always presented herself with grace…

There is so much more to this complex woman. She sacrificed for her family like every mom, but she never complained. She did her work daily and put a spit shine to every task. She taught her sons lessons in work ethic, loyalty and fairness. There was a strong sense of right and wrong in all her judgment. She quietly and stoically served her family. But, she was no doormat. She expressed herself forcefully many times and one will never know how or why Grandpa had a pink Cadillc or pink house at one point. It could be he was color blind, but it could also be that she exerted much influence over him and that he loved her and gave her what she wanted. She had a way of letting you know enough was enough, or with some sly signal that she was displeased. It was as if she was steering from behind the curtain like the Wizard in Oz. She never put herself out in front for show, never made a scene. But she evidently quietly and forcefully got her way.

She never lacked for fine clothes, homes, cars and it was Grandpa who drove her to the beauty shop every week so she could have her hair done. She took care of herself, as is shown by the number of lipstick tubes in her medicine cabinet. She liked nice smelling soaps and lotions, but always tucked them away for a special day. She had nice jewelry and Grandpa would buy her gold watches, rings and pendants. She wore them with great pride and humility, never flauntingly. All she did was humble.

But she was also tenderhearted and soft inside, even though she seldom showed how deeply she felt love. Grandma loved her family to be near her and when she had to leave, she was always brought to tears. She always cried when she parted. Sandi said she wept many times. I saw her tear up as she went out the door many times. She never made demands for herself, she was reserved and quiet.

She loved to save; it was a game to her. She also liked to gamble, slots mostly and bingo. She was a master at playing cards, especially bidding games like Pinochle. We played gin, which bored her, there was not gambling involved. She liked the sport of one on one card games and thought carefully and skillfully over each play. She amazed me at either her luck or skill. I am not sure which it was. I never understood it. She always won.

Being there when Grandma died was again a great honor. Dad and Gina arrived and Dad sat next to her and Dad started to talk to her. She turned her head his way, and it seemed clear she knew he was there. I could see Dad needed to take some time with her to say his goodbyes and so I left the room. Dad spent time saying goodbye to his mother, he told her she was a good mother and started to cry.

While Dad and Gina were there, Grandma had seemed to start to struggle, turning and moaning, so we had the nurse give her morphine for pain. We didn’t want her to suffer at all.

Sandi had gone to her friends and to rest. We both didn’t want Grandma to be alone, and as Dad was ill and Ron needed his sleep, it was decided I would take the first shift and call Sandi at about 2 a.m. and she would come in so I could go home and sleep. We didn’t want Grandma to be there alone at any time. I told them I would call if something changed. After the last morphine shot Grandma calmed down and slept.

It was about 1 a.m. after I had curled up in the recliner in the room and slept for about a half hour that Grandma’s breathing became erratic. I debated on calling everyone right away, given my propensity for panicking, I didn’t want to call everyone in and have her just need more pain killers. Dad needed sleep, Sandi was a few miles away and Ron couldn’t drive at night so he’d need a ride. She was breathing in short, quick gasps and I didn’t know if she was in pain or in a panic. So, I had the nurse give her a small shot of morphine. A few minutes later we gave her the relaxing medication as she seemed to be panicking a bit not being able to catch her breath. Her breathing was still odd. I didn’t know if I should call everyone, but then decided to wait and sit by her side. I held her hand and talked to her.

I told her she has lots of people in heaven who loved her and are waiting for her and she had lots of people here who love her too. I told her Norm, Sandi and Ron were here and we all loved her. I prayed for her in the spirit and asked Jesus to touch her with His love in a personal and in a way that she could know it was Him. It wasn’t a few minutes and she stopped breathing.

Her passing was very peaceful. She died in a quiet room, with God’s love all around her. I called Norm, Sandi and she called Ron. Dad went to get Ron. Dad went to her side; Ron gave grandma a kiss on her forehead. Sandi stood by her side and wept. They all had said their goodbyes and were at peace.

It was about 2 a.m. when the Hospice Intern Chaplain came in. Apparently he gets the night shift. The nurse called the funeral home and she had tears in her eyes. “I’ve seen this many times and I still am moved to tears,” she said. She explained that Grandma would be taken to the morgue when we were ready. They then would care for her as they should and bring her to the funeral home. It was decided we’d do a memorial service at the Funeral Home with Pastor Christine who sang over her while I was there and the Pastor who presided over many services at chapel that Grandma attended every week.

Since, I had committed to an event in Minneapolis on Friday a.m., I had to return to Minnesota for the evening. Before I did, Sandi suggested I go with her to Grandma’s and pick out her funeral clothes. I told dad to not forget her glasses and teeth. They’d need all of those things when preparing her for the funeral. I asked Dad and Ron if they had a preference as to what she should wear. Dad suggested something red. She did love red. I remembered buying her a red blazer after Grandpa died for Easter. I commented once that she hardly ever wore it. She told me she was saving it. 

We found a silky white blouse with embroidering on it and the red blazer with white piping. Sandi found some black pants, commenting that no one sees the pants anyway. She looked lovely in her casket. Her hair was white and curled lovely, just like she’d like it. I noticed her nails were shining with the clear polish I used the day before. She didn’t have the right color lipstick; they used pink and I think she would have preferred red. But other than this, she presented herself one last time on this earth with grace.

I think of Grandma often and miss her.