Today is my
grandma's 94th birthday. I imagine she will be celebrating in her way, which means low key, no fuss, with my aunt and uncle, in her group home. There will be no cake and ice cream, and she won't want presents. There won't be all of us around her, except in spirit and in love.
It is a long way from her 90th birthday celebration, here in Atlanta, where we all dressed up and celebrated that huge milestone with a fancy dinner and family and laughter.
It is a long way from our wedding, almost 3 years ago, where she danced into the night dressed to the nines. She danced with Lee, she danced with Landon, she giggled and made friends and charmed in the way that only she can.
It is a long way from a woman who, until 3 years ago, had a blog. A short-lived blog, but one nonetheless. She emailed and read our blogs and was the hippest 91 year old around.
It is a long way from 2.5 years ago, when I was sitting in a hotel in Melbourne with my mom when we found out that she had broken her back and we thought she wasn't going to make it.
She fought hard, and she survived. She not only survived but she made it her goal to drive again, and while it would normally be against anyone's better judgment to let a 92 year old with a broken back drive, she did live in Kingman, where the average age is 102 and no one drives over the speed of 10. It was okay.
It is a long way from when she met Finn last fall, out in Kingman. It was our last visit with her where she was able to walk on her own, to leave her (then) home, but we knew something wasn't right, she was acting a little different, and it was shortly after that we found out she likely had had some strokes. This was the start of a year of moving, from Kingman to Phoenix, from home to hospice to home.
It is a long way from January, when we were told my other grandmother had passed away at the exact time that my parents believed my grandma wouldn't make it. They were with her and said goodbye to her, believing they were saying goodbye to her for the last time as they were leaving to say their final goodbye to my nana. It was a tremendously heartbreaking experience, and one my dad has relived many visits since then.
It is a long way since last March, when my dad called and asked to have both Lee and I on the phone. He told us my grandmother had made a decision, and had stopped eating. She was in hospice and, as they believe fully in dying with dignity, they offered her food but never forced it on her. I had to get off the phone knowing that there was little time left and that I would be losing another grandmother this year.
It is a long way from April, 6 weeks after she stopped eating, when hospice came to my aunt and uncle, (who have devoted themselves to caring for her, who spend almost every day visiting her, who are amazing) and told them that it was unusual, but instead of getting worse my grandmother was getting better. Better. She was off all her medication and not eating and yet? She was surviving.
It is a long way from that day, when my grandmother heard the news and said "Well, if it isn't working then I am going to start eating, I am hungry." And that was that. She had made up her mind.
She is such a fighter, such a strength to our family. But I know she is done fighting, that she is ready to be done with her life in this world. She has said to me, and to others, that we shouldn't wish to live to be 94, that we will get what we wish for. Yet, despite the heartbreak of being unable to walk, of having to have someone bathe you, of not being able to eat anything that isn't pureed, and of wanting to be done with it all, she loves us. She has pictures of her great-grandsons on her walls, she has all her clothes organized and marked with her name, she had me paint her nails in September when I saw her, and buy her lipstick. She reads all my articles, she knows what everyone is up to, and she is still so much a part of our lives, of our family. I know her time could be up any day, but I believe that her strength, her tenacity, and her love for her family are helping to keep her around.
Happy 94th Birthday Grandma, I wish we were there to celebrate with you. Here's to 95, okay?