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my grandmother
Aug. 11th, 2003 09:39 amMy grandmother has been ill, in and out of the hospital and her graduated-care place. This weekend, I went down with my parents to Pennsylvania and got to see her again. I was going home with the help of wonderful Jess to bring some furnitures back from my house to our new apartment, and called from the road to say when we'd be in. My dad said: Savtah lapsed badly yesterday and that he was about to leave to go down and see her. Jess and Jill (who had come too) said they would help me with unloading my stuff and so after packing stuff quickly, I grabbed a change of clothes and got to go with my folks. Today my dad had morning appointments in Boston, so that is how I got back. I am very glad that I got to come along.
I don't see my grandmother enough, and she is dieing. She is. I spoke with her on the telephone shortly after she went into the hospital at the end of July, when we were scared there'd be a funeral that very week. She sounded terrible. She didn't sound like herself at all, and I couldn't talk for very long.
So I was scared that I would see a really bad sight of my grandmother. But even with the idea of not "having your last memory of her be like this...", I knew I wanted to go.
Seeing Savtah was good. When we first came in to her room, she was curled up on her bed, and very small under the covers. Usually, she has been sitting in her chair or on the wheelchair in her room. There was an IV stand, too that has not been around before, and some tubes that I noticed under the edge of the sheets. But I am not afraid of IV tubes; I have had them, too.
Savtah looked like herself, but also a little different. Her hair was very wispy, not brushed, and pale. This reminded me of my other grandmother, Dima/Anna, who in fact had turned sickly as she passed. At her funeral, I did not look in the coffin. (Shouldn't be an open coffin funeral in a Jewish funeral home, anyway.) The line of Savtah's jaw had changed too, and this again caused her to resemble my other grandma in my eyes. With no contradiction, though, she looked like herself. Ima commented on how soft Savtah's skin still was, and how natural her cheeks. I noticed that her face from nose to chin was greased with some thin clear liquid or cream. I imagine it was some kind of hospital lotion, the kind they put there to make sure a patent's skin or membranes don't dry out. It didn't bother me, and I didn't say anything about it. I kissed her hello.
When my dad greeted her, he was waking her up. He asked her who she guessed he had brought with him. Ima was right behind him in queueing up to her bed, but Savtah said "Ariela".
Savtah didn't speak much, but she did sometimes and she was always understandable. It was like a real conversation, although it was mostly us telling her stories. Over the course of several minutes, her eyes would drift closed, and I think she drifted to sleep a few times. At the end of our visit, when we left to have lunch with my aunt&uncle who live there before heading back up to home, she said "Such a short visit!" It was, it was very short. To get down to Reading takes about 5 hours, and so we'd slept over the night before and saw her only in the morning. I agreed with my grandmother is was such a short visit -- I didn't yet want to leave. But we had to, in order to get back in time.
In the morning, at my aunt&uncle's place the talk around the breakfast table was of funerals and packing up of belongings. My aunt was concerned that if we left all of Savtah's stuff in her room during the week when all the family would be in Vermont (for the funeral. We wouldn't have it down in Pennsylvania.), it might not be in good condition (or there!) when we got back. I hate when my relatives try to make me pick stuff I want from a relative -- when Dima died, and we were cleaning out her closets, my mother made me try on anything I seemed to look at -- but the topics come up alot. to some extent, I guess it is better than arguing at a time of even higher stress and making bad feelings, but I still feel uneasy. Especially, Savtah does not seem to be interested in dispersing her possessions yet. In fact, when the graduated-care place asked her if she would be willing to loan some of her china collection to the hall-way displays they rotate monthly, she repeatedly refused their requests! She still has a will about her! It is different, of course, to discuss how & when will we get her stuff packed out of the room from to discuss which of her china or furniture might I like to keep. Some things have preliminary "dibs" sorta called on them, people to whom something specific would be meaningful have made it known. My Aunt was trying to suggest, though, that I should request Savtah's dresser as a solution to my current lack of shelves in my new house. No way. I wouldn't do that, because anyway I need a dresser or chest of drawer *now*, and I hope my grandmother's will not be available for a while yet.
One thing that everyone was remarking on, and I was thinking about too, was how mentally composed Savtah seemed. Yes, she had to rest every few minutes and I don't know if she was listening then, but it was clear she was following when we were talking. I think it's hard for her to talk because she clearly doesn't have much energy. She said my name twice, though. Once when we came in, and once on the phone, talking to my other aunt her daughter. That aunt had put her grandson on. and then was asking my grandmother if she knew who that was. "Ariela", she said, which was wrong, but I was standing right in Savtah's line of sight, so maybe that was why. Abba says I'm on her mind a lot. Observing that did make me feel special, and I'm glad my grandmother thinks of me. I am not her only grandchild, she has eight or so. It was the right thing to do to visit her now, and I believe she was pleased. My Aunt & Uncle who live there express doubt at how much she remembers, and suggest she might not be as with-it as she seemed. I know in phone calls to her over the years I have been very frustrated because 1) she doesn't hear you and 2) she would say random things or not answer so it seemed like she didn't understand you anyway. I would dread to be asked to take the phone, because I hated trying to talk with her but didn't feel I could refuse to. So maybe I am fooling myself somewhat, but I don't care: I still believe that she understood us and joined the conversation meaningfully when we were there.
I don't see my grandmother enough, and she is dieing. She is. I spoke with her on the telephone shortly after she went into the hospital at the end of July, when we were scared there'd be a funeral that very week. She sounded terrible. She didn't sound like herself at all, and I couldn't talk for very long.
So I was scared that I would see a really bad sight of my grandmother. But even with the idea of not "having your last memory of her be like this...", I knew I wanted to go.
Seeing Savtah was good. When we first came in to her room, she was curled up on her bed, and very small under the covers. Usually, she has been sitting in her chair or on the wheelchair in her room. There was an IV stand, too that has not been around before, and some tubes that I noticed under the edge of the sheets. But I am not afraid of IV tubes; I have had them, too.
Savtah looked like herself, but also a little different. Her hair was very wispy, not brushed, and pale. This reminded me of my other grandmother, Dima/Anna, who in fact had turned sickly as she passed. At her funeral, I did not look in the coffin. (Shouldn't be an open coffin funeral in a Jewish funeral home, anyway.) The line of Savtah's jaw had changed too, and this again caused her to resemble my other grandma in my eyes. With no contradiction, though, she looked like herself. Ima commented on how soft Savtah's skin still was, and how natural her cheeks. I noticed that her face from nose to chin was greased with some thin clear liquid or cream. I imagine it was some kind of hospital lotion, the kind they put there to make sure a patent's skin or membranes don't dry out. It didn't bother me, and I didn't say anything about it. I kissed her hello.
When my dad greeted her, he was waking her up. He asked her who she guessed he had brought with him. Ima was right behind him in queueing up to her bed, but Savtah said "Ariela".
Savtah didn't speak much, but she did sometimes and she was always understandable. It was like a real conversation, although it was mostly us telling her stories. Over the course of several minutes, her eyes would drift closed, and I think she drifted to sleep a few times. At the end of our visit, when we left to have lunch with my aunt&uncle who live there before heading back up to home, she said "Such a short visit!" It was, it was very short. To get down to Reading takes about 5 hours, and so we'd slept over the night before and saw her only in the morning. I agreed with my grandmother is was such a short visit -- I didn't yet want to leave. But we had to, in order to get back in time.
In the morning, at my aunt&uncle's place the talk around the breakfast table was of funerals and packing up of belongings. My aunt was concerned that if we left all of Savtah's stuff in her room during the week when all the family would be in Vermont (for the funeral. We wouldn't have it down in Pennsylvania.), it might not be in good condition (or there!) when we got back. I hate when my relatives try to make me pick stuff I want from a relative -- when Dima died, and we were cleaning out her closets, my mother made me try on anything I seemed to look at -- but the topics come up alot. to some extent, I guess it is better than arguing at a time of even higher stress and making bad feelings, but I still feel uneasy. Especially, Savtah does not seem to be interested in dispersing her possessions yet. In fact, when the graduated-care place asked her if she would be willing to loan some of her china collection to the hall-way displays they rotate monthly, she repeatedly refused their requests! She still has a will about her! It is different, of course, to discuss how & when will we get her stuff packed out of the room from to discuss which of her china or furniture might I like to keep. Some things have preliminary "dibs" sorta called on them, people to whom something specific would be meaningful have made it known. My Aunt was trying to suggest, though, that I should request Savtah's dresser as a solution to my current lack of shelves in my new house. No way. I wouldn't do that, because anyway I need a dresser or chest of drawer *now*, and I hope my grandmother's will not be available for a while yet.
One thing that everyone was remarking on, and I was thinking about too, was how mentally composed Savtah seemed. Yes, she had to rest every few minutes and I don't know if she was listening then, but it was clear she was following when we were talking. I think it's hard for her to talk because she clearly doesn't have much energy. She said my name twice, though. Once when we came in, and once on the phone, talking to my other aunt her daughter. That aunt had put her grandson on. and then was asking my grandmother if she knew who that was. "Ariela", she said, which was wrong, but I was standing right in Savtah's line of sight, so maybe that was why. Abba says I'm on her mind a lot. Observing that did make me feel special, and I'm glad my grandmother thinks of me. I am not her only grandchild, she has eight or so. It was the right thing to do to visit her now, and I believe she was pleased. My Aunt & Uncle who live there express doubt at how much she remembers, and suggest she might not be as with-it as she seemed. I know in phone calls to her over the years I have been very frustrated because 1) she doesn't hear you and 2) she would say random things or not answer so it seemed like she didn't understand you anyway. I would dread to be asked to take the phone, because I hated trying to talk with her but didn't feel I could refuse to. So maybe I am fooling myself somewhat, but I don't care: I still believe that she understood us and joined the conversation meaningfully when we were there.
