today at nonnie's funeral i had the honor of being able to read these thoughts to family and friends. it's an amalgamation of several blog entries with more stuff added...
<3
My phone rang at 8:50 am. I knew something wasn’t right. It was my Mom calling to say that they were moving Nonnie from the ICU to the hospice unit. She said I should come home as soon as possible. I left class in a stunned daze, and as I was driving down 81, my dad called to update me on Nonnie's condition. I asked if I could talk to her in case I didn't make it home in time, and he put her on the phone.
I said, hi, Nonnie, how are you?
And she said, Ooh Megan! Her voice was happy. She remembered me.
Tears welled in my eyes.
I said, Are you scared Nonnie?
No, she said. I've led a good life, and I have a good family.
Ok Nonnie, well I love you very, very much, and I'll see you soon.
Monitors beeped in the background.
I love you too. Click. I drove faster, Nonnie's voice ringing in my head
I spent the next three days in the hospital with my camera, documenting what I thought would be the last few days of her life. I actually almost didn’t bring my camera home with me because I thought people would think it was weird that I was photographing my dying grandma. But to me, death is just another part of life. And to create an image about the process we went through is to share yet another part of the human experience with someone else, and in sharing that, connect us all together. Or maybe viewing life through a camera is just my way of making sense of everything.
When I got back to school, I sifted through the hundreds of images I had created. I saw Uncle John bent over a sleeping Nonnie, brushing her hair. Aunt Terry feeding her lemon sherbert. My Mom and Dad, Aunt Sue, Aunt Kathy, Zach, Karm, Mary Fran, Kate, and countless others all taking turns watching over her, cleaning her, holding her hand, and comforting her as she has done for us throughout our lives.
This is what I see when I look at these images. They are simultaneously sad and yet beautifully tender. I see the life of one tiny, fading person that has bound all of these other people together. And they've all come to tell her how much she has meant to them, and to say goodbye one last time. When I look back on this period in my life, it is this love and unity I will remember.
I sat by her bed and brushed her hair. Her eyes blinked open and closed.
I said, what are you thinking about Nonnie? She said, you
Days passed, and we could do nothing but wait by her side.
I went back to school, thinking I would not see my Nonnie alive again. But she wouldn’t be ready to leave us for a while.
Wednesday night my mom called to tell me that Nonnie's breathing had become erratic, and that I might want to consider coming home. She called back several minutes later to say that she'd stabilized and that I should just stay at school. I didn't sleep well afterwards, and had nightmares all night long. In my dreams, I found myself in the middle of a field, rain pouring down, screaming at the heavens to take her or leave her with us, but not to leave her like this.
When I woke up to do work before class the next morning, everything I've been dealing with lately seemed to hit me all at once. I couldn't stop crying. I called my friend Becky, and she told me that I didn't belong at school, I belonged home with my family. Waiting for a phone call to say my grandma had died was too much to deal with on top of everything else.
I packed up some stuff and drove home, planning to come back to school the next night.
When I got to the hospital, Nonnie was in worse shape than the last time I'd seen her. Her cheeks were hollow, and she was very thin. She hadn't eaten in 10 days. I said, Hi Nonnie, and kissed her head, but she didn't respond like she did last week. As I held her hand and talked to her, her eyes fluttered slightly. The nurse would later tell me that the last sense we lose before we die is our hearing.
I sat down on the couch next to my Aunt Kathy, and she asked me how things were going at school. As I started explaining everything I began crying again. She and Jenn sat with me and hugged me. We rocked back and forth and talked about my problems and they reassured me that everything would work out eventually. I believed them. I've never felt that connected to my family, but things seem to have changed over the past few weeks. I've reached out to them for help, and they've responded with tremendous love and support. I can't help but feeling like this was some sort of master plan for Nonnie. If there would be one thing she could ask before she died, I'm pretty sure it would be to bring her family closer together. Becky was right. What I really needed was to be with my family.
For as long as I can remember, Nonnie has had some sort of back or neck pain. Her doctor couldn't explain to us why after losing 5 pints of blood, she was still able to live for 15 days. One of the nurses told me that when pain is just a part of living, your body learns to compensate for it in different ways. Her body thought that this was just another thing it was going to fight its way out of.
I spent the next day at the hospital, and planned on leaving around 6. I wasn't really ready to go back to school yet, so I ended up staying longer than I'd planned. As I went back into Nonnie's room to collect my stuff, the nurse told Aunt Sue that she thought it was time.
We all stood around Nonnie's bed and held her, and each other. As I ran my fingers through her hair for the last time I thought about how she’d done the same for me as I sat in her lap as a child. I thought about how she would finally be with Boppie, which is the only place she's ever wanted to be. Some of us told her how much we loved her. Some bowed their heads in prayer. I whispered in her ear, thanking her for everything she's ever done for me, told her I loved her, and asked her to say hello to Boppie for me...
From Boppie, I carry on a love of craft, gardening, photography, tacky lawn ornamentation and fancy pants dancing. And while I may have lost a home within my grandmother, whatever burned inside of her that kept her going for all those years, through everything she's been through, through all the hard times and pain, and all of the good times too, will burn inside of me forever. Her memory brings me comfort and laughter, but above all, it brings me strength and courage. Strength that will carry me through tough times, and open my heart up to care for others. Strength to forgive those who have done me wrong. Her memory will bring me courage to speak of truth and beauty, to change the things that I can change, and to accept the things I cannot. And if I accomplish one thing in my time here on earth, I hope it is to touch as many lives as my Nonnie has.
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