I've been seeing a lot of people who have died recently, in my dreams. The kind of dreams that wake you up and snap you back into reality....so hard you swear you'd have whiplash, if you weren't laying flat on the pillow.
My great grandma I barely remember. Isn't that sad? I don't even remember how she sounded, or smelled. I don't even remember the last time I gave her a hug or said I love you.
My Grandpa Murphy died in a hospital bed and I didn't even know that he was doing badly. He'd been transferred to a rehab unit, and something went wrong where he didn't make it. The details we didn't even get. There was no funeral. No clipping in the paper.
My best childhood friend, passed away when he was only 21 years old. The last time I'd seen or spoke with him was with his mom, at my high school graduation party... A conversation that was so awkward as a result of too many years apart, that I'd hurried through the talk to move on to the next table. That was the last time I would see Tyler. And the last time I'd see his mom, was at his funeral...She passed away recently too.
Russ Jacobs, my daughter's grandpa, passed away when she was only 6 or so months old. His memory seems to be all over the place. I get caught up in our conversation we'd had a week before he died, surrounded by his family in the quiet of his home. It was the first time in my life, I'd ever been able to say goodbye to someone, before they passed away. To have the talk that meant it would be the last time you got advice, or told them how much they meant to you. It was the first goodbye talk I'd ever had.
I'd say my Uncle Ed was the hardest for me though, and the most recent that really hit home. I still drive by his house....Because even though it's been sold- it'll always be his house. His street. His driveway. He was the first family member that was really put in my care, under my observation- as a nurse, and niece. That time he was going downhill, was probably the hardest time of my professional career as a nurse. It's unlike any hard day I've ever had, being a nurse- and family member at the same time. It's two full time jobs, at once..
I wonder though, all of the time, if I could have been better. Nicer. More patient. Even though he was a heck of a guy to get along with at the end. His mood swings were quite exhausting. I can remember practically running out of the building glad to get some fresh air, and time to free my mind from what was going on at work- and with him. I remember seeing him get sicker too. Weaker. Losing the fight and the battle of trying to go home. At one point, he took a turn for the worse- and everyone came in for their chats and goodbye talks. I see a lot of those talks, all of the time at work...but having one, at the side of a hospital bed, in a nursing home...with someone you love- is another story. One you can't prepare for. For some reason, that talk for me though--came easily. I'd had plenty of time to think about it, and most of my words came flying out because I wanted to make sure he stayed in a tolerable mood to even allow all of my questions. He went a few more weeks, before he died, which surprised a lot of people because by then he wouldn't even eat his ice cream, orange soda or little debbie cakes. That was probably when we all realized it wouldn't be much longer.
I remember driving to work for the couple of months after that- and the fact that every morning, driving up to that building- knowing that he was gone, and that's where he passed away...was just too much.
When I was younger, after my great-grandma passed away, I remember driving with my mom. We were on the highway and a country song came on. She had her sunglasses on, and it was a beautiful day out......
"One day shy, of 8 years old, my grandma passed away.
I was a broken hearted little boy- blowing out that birthday cake.
How I cried, when the sky let go-
with a cold, and lonesome rain,
Mama cried, said don't be sad child,
Grandma's watchin' you today.
Cause there's holes in the floor of heaven
And her tears are pouring down
That's how you know she's watchin'
Wishin' she could be here now..."
I remember looking over at her, out of the corner of my eye...Just enough that I could see her, but she couldn't see me watching her get upset. I remember feeling sad for her, but not hurting the way she was. I didn't feel so close to my grandma Gerke, not the way she did.
But to this day, that song plays- and I cry. Every time.
Thinking about it now even brings tears to my eyes. I guess it's a song you understand more when you're older...when you've lost more...when death gets to be reality- but never easier. When the weight of it all comes crashing down on you in the most random of moments- even if in the confines of a verse in an old country song...just when you think you've overcome it.
