10 Years

Ten years ago today, at 5:18 p.m., my Granny passed away, from a fairly short battle with Alzheimer’s Disease. I’ve had her on my mind a lot lately as this week and today got closer—about how life was when I was a kid around her all the time—how life was when I’d come home from college or St. Louis when I lived there and I didn’t get to see her often—and also about how life was at the end, when she was in the hospital the last 9 days of her life.

I remember that last visit in the hospital that she knew who I was. The one where she was barely “there,” but she knew it was me sitting with her. I remember so much about that room—where I sat, how she sounded, what we talked about and just soaking it in as I held her hand or rubbed her arm. At the time sitting there with her, I didn’t know it would be the last time that I would have a conversation with her. The last time she would recognize me—or any of us. The last time I would hear her voice—or that laugh of hers. I didn’t know, ya know?

Countless times over the years and several times in the last week, things have triggered memories of her. Ones that span my life with her, and some that were part of life after she died.

I am very grateful that the amount of great memories of her far exceed the ones that sadden me. She was not perfect, and she could be pretty crusty at times, but she was dear to me, and she did the best she could with what she had. I didn’t have the ideal set up in our house with parents that were always there and actually invested in me as a person, but I had her, and thank the Lord for that. I shake my head at the thought of what I would be today not having her in my life. Even sitting here writing this, memories are flying through my head relating to all different kinds of things.

And as much as I hoped that the last chapter of her life turn out way different than it did, and not have Alzheimer’s do the damage to her mind, that was not how things were to be. The last time I saw her in the hospital before she died was the day after this visit I mentioned earlier. It was a new day, but it was a sad day. During the night she had taken a turn for the worse, and wound up in a sort of coma type state where she was alive but not really living. She couldn’t talk, or respond to anyone talking to her. She just laid there in that bed and though breathing, not doing much else. That made me very grateful for that last conversation we had the day before, when I got to hear her laugh and talk a bit. Ten years later, I am still grateful. Always will be.

Life is strange. Life is hard. Life is short. But through it all, God is good. We don’t get to choose how we leave, but we do get to choose how we live. Ya know?