Leaving a legacy

 My grandma died just 9 days after being diagnosed with liver cancer.

The day she was diagnosed, I booked tickets for me and the kids to go visit.  I wanted her to meet my boys and I knew I had to go say goodbye.  I thought, perhaps, I could cook her kielke and we could just sit and chat...there was so much I wanted to tell her.

But the trip did not go as I anticipated.  Grandma was so weak the day we got there that it took all her energy to speak a sentence.  I was afraid to share with her everything on my heart, for fear that her trying to respond would take up the remainder of her energy.  The words that she said to me were precious and I will never forget them.  And instead of our long chats, I just sat and held her hand.

But if I could have, I would have told her:
That I hum the melody that she sang to me as a child, as she rocked me in her brown chair, to my baby.

That I sing "High, High, Up in the sky, goes Eliot!" every time I swing my kids, just like she sang to me.
That we make verinky every New Year's Eve and zwiebach every Thanksgiving.

You see, grandma left a legacy.
An amazing legacy of love and quality time with family.

You didn't have to look very far to see it in her last days.
Two people were always sitting beside her, holding a hand.
Her home was full of kids, grandkids, greatgrandkids, nieces, and friends the entire week.
Her husband of 63 years never left her side.
Everyone was full of peace as they offered ice chips or placed a cold rag on her neck, doing anything they could to help her be more comfortable at a very painful time.
I was overwhelmed by the amount of love that filled her house.  My family went days without hardly eating or sleeping and traveled great distances to take care of her and it was one of the most beautiful things I've seen.

Grandma meeting Alison

My entire life, every time I would walk in the door she would open her arms wide and say, 

"Oh my Jennifer".  

Doesn't look like much when I type it out, but it was the most warm and loving greeting.

She still said it to me when I walked in to see her a week ago.  She said it to me even when her words were labored and few and far between.

Rocking Alison, just like she rocked me

I often felt like an odd shaped puzzle piece in my family-never completely fitting in.

I'm not a nurse, I don't play sports and I couldn't tell you how to pickle a cucumber.

But she made me fit.

She was the one that would scoop me up and bring me into the kitchen with her.  

She would let me sit on the counter and "help" her cook.

She taught me and my sister how to play nerts and would play tournaments with us all day long.

She would have coloring contests with us and let us dress up in her old dresses and shoes.

She would draw tracks on her drive way and help us imagine different worlds as we rode around on our hotwheels.

Grandma meeting her youngest great-grandchildren

I will always remember picking berries in the backyard and playing in the creek behind her house.

I'll remember the hours of playing in the attic space and the smell of their house.

She drank coffee.

In fact, I'm pretty sure the last thing she consumed was coffee.

She worked as a nurse while raising 4 kids and always had dinner on the table.

Lesson learned from grandma:

Sleep less, work hard and drink more coffee!

She is the strongest woman I know.

My Aunt Karen and Beth are right there behind her,

 but being with her this past week, proved to me how incredible she is.

Anyone else would have given up far sooner, but she fought hard until the very end.

Tuesday was the last day that she really said anything.  After that, it was just short one-word answers.
And this is what my grandma said to me on that precious day:

"Oh my Jennifer.  You came.  You came all this way to see me.  I'm so sorry you have to see me like this.  But I'm so glad I got meet the boys."

She told me that she loves reading this blog.

"He really does have long eyelashes"
(while looking at Colin, and keep in mind that she wouldn't recognize people unless you got really close and told her who you were)

And the last thing she said to me was, "I wish I could get out of this chair and play with Colin".

Wow.
Her last words were so selfless.
At a time of great pain, she was thinking about me seeing her sick.
And how did she want to spend her last hours?  Playing with her great-grandkids.

Colin and grandpa

Grandma had this uncanny sense for the kids.

When we walked in the room, we would have to lean over, give her a hug and say "Hi grandma, it's Jen".  There were a couple of times that I would be sitting, holding her hand, and she wouldn't know it was me until Aunt Karen told her.

All that to say, that if the kids left the room, she would ask where they were.

She just wanted to touch them and look at them.

I sat with Eli across the room from her and she said, "he has such a sweet voice".

How she saw and heard them, I have no idea.

Seeing grandma's health fade quickly was hard to see.

But she left me feeling encouraged as a mom...

To love them and pour into them, because my days are numbered and I have a legacy to pass on.