I've been thinking about the way that humans remember their lives. We take photos, we make scrapbooks, we write in our journals, and we tell stories. I was thinking about how when we are born our parents take many many pictures throughout the course of our lives. Then when we meet "the one", we take many many pictures of each other together. We get married and hire someone to come in just to take the pictures. Then we have babies and start the whole process over again. It seems all of our happy moments we need to record in some way because we may forget them. The happy moments are the first to slip away. Especially when pain seeps into our lives. Why is it that we never take pictures of our deaths? Is it because the pain is so real that we don't need pictures to remember it by?
My 88 year old grandmother, Ruth Annabelle Jones passed away on October 25, 2010. We knew that this day was going to come. Death is 100% for all individuals. There is no escaping death. It will happen to all of us. But it seems that no matter how much you prepare for this time, you can never fully prepare for it. Death is one of the most simple things in the world, but with all the feelings and complexities of emotions, it is one of the most complicated things to endure.I feel so ashamed and guilty that I didn't visit her more. For the majority of my life, she literally lived 5 miles away. But I still didn't go visit her. I didn't feel like we had much in common, and I thought that I had other things I needed to do. When she moved into the nursing home just 5 minutes away, I visited her about every 3 weeks. What did I have that was so important?
The last time that I visited with my grandma was on Oct 03, and she slept the majority of the time. Her cancer had spread to many areas of her body that caused alot of pain. She was so heavily medicated for the pain that many times it would set her into a deep sleep. She was sitting back in her recliner, with the baby quilt that she hand made across her lap. The back of her hair was flat from sleeping so much. I was sitting next to her in the chair and my dad was across from me. My dad and I were talking and sometimes she would wake up and have a 2-3 minute conversation before falling back asleep. I will never forget that she said that I had "really pretty tennis shoes". She said she "really liked the purple." At the time it made me really smile, but now it brings tears to my eyes.
It had been almost 3 weeks since I had seen her last. I don't think that I really thought that she was as bad as she was. There is a rose in my backyard, that when we first moved in, at first glance I thought of grandma Jones. She would love that flower. It just looked like her. So when it would bloom (which is 3 times a year) I would
clip off one of the roses and ride my bike down to visit to give it to her. The rosebush was blooming in the days previous from me planning on visiting her. It had 3 tiny buds just waiting for some warmth from the sun to open up. I was going to visit her October 25 in the afternoon once I got off from the library. But I was too late. She was gone even before I was done working. When I came home that afternoon, the buds were in FULL bloom. They bloomed, but she never got to see them again.Part of my remembering her will always be that rose. I brought two of the three to her viewing and funeral, and then as she was lowered into the ground, I placed them on the tombstone. She did get them.
Grandma, I will never forget those times that we shared in the nursing home. Playing a mean game of yahtzee and bingo, trying to learn how to quilt from you, and how you were growing grass and flowers in the springtime in a window box. You and grandpa Ned have taught me so much in my life and have molded me into who I am today. You are still teaching me through your death. The world was much better because you were here. We all will NEVER forget you....you have made a bigger impact than you will ever know.....love you and miss you.
