November 18, 2023
Yikes 8 years. 8 years, 4 months and 18 days (to be exact) since my last writing excursion. So much has happened that I couldn't possibly cover it all in just one blog post. I will have to present little snippets here and there of what life has thrown at me the past 8 years, 4 months and 18 days in my next blog posts. I would love to tell you that I will post every day. I think most of you can see by the large gaps of time that span between previous writings, that this just ain't the reality. I will do my best when time allows.
Today is my Grandma GG's 94th birthday. Her name is not Gigi or Gidget, it's Bonita Isabelle. We call her GG because it's short for great grandma (since she has lots of great grandchildren). The name "Grandma GG" is completely redundant which is the exact opposite of the essence of my grandmother. She's needed and purposeful and lovely. So it's like calling someone large-framed "Tiny". I love that - antiphrasis, I think they call it. It's ironic and funny. Now THAT is my Grandma GG, ironic and funny.
94. She's a sassy, kind, loving, bowling and card-playing, chef. She taught me a lot of what I know in the kitchen and all of what I know about card games. She's jovial and fun and her laugh warms everyone around her but when she means business, watch out, 'cause you don't cross GG. She's the epitomy of matriarchs. She taught me to understand the importance of being in the moment and, most importantly, how a life of ordinary is the most extraordinary. While her body may be getting on with age, her mind is sharp as a tack. If only I could have half a meaningful life as she has had in these 94 years, laugh half as much, love half as much, celebrate half as much, my life would be rich and adundant beyond measure. Speaking of celebrating, I best run to her party or I'll be scolded for being late.
Edited December 9, 2023:
I did make it to her birthday party (I wasn't even scolded for my tardiness) but sadly a few weeks later GG ended up in the ER and, after a few short days in hospice, GG called it. She always did have an exceptional end play. For you non-card-playing folk, this is a strategy in the game of bridge, one of her favorite and fiercest games. Anyhoo, her body just simply wore out. She had some wild stories of events she truly believed were reality. Something about a long journey and for a time she was walking on a highway (naked), trying to find places to sleep, in a department store of all places, keeping a young teenage girl she did not know safe from unsavory characters, searching for but unable to find her loved ones, there were nurses and police involved, too. Timing-wise, we believe this journey was had before, and what brought her to, the hospital. I gather it's what happens when people have near-death experiences - the in-between as some would call it, a place between consciousness, sleep and whatever is "next" as GG would call it. Whenever this event did happen, it seemed incredibly real to her and her story never changed - she told it the same way to every person that visited down to every vivid detail.
While in the hospice center she was tired and frail but surprisingly lucid for 2 days. My last 2-sided conversation with her was on Tuesday 12/5 and it was wonderful. She seemed to understand what was going to happen and she was calm and not sad. She was her usual self and we laughed a lot. She asked about the kids and their activities and schools. She said her peace and her goodbyes. I won't write about all that we discussed, I need something that is all mine, but I did ask her if she was scared and she said "No! I'll be on to the next adventure. I can't want to see Art." My grandfather, Art, who had passed away 24 years prior. Proof that her love for him never diminished or dimmed, not while he was on Earth nor in the afterlife. GG's last 2 days on Earth were spent in a state of sleep and unconsciousness but everyone that visited talked to her. We prayed she could hear us. We told her we were there with her and she was so loved. During my last visits I told her she could go see Art and not to worry that we (the family) would take care of each other, just like she taught us, and that her end play lives in us all, forever and ever.
Beautiful Melissa