I don’t regularly post the weekly photo challenge from The Daily Post, but this one caught my eye.
I recently took a picture that was peaceful to me.
Ah, the sun coming through the clouds. What can be more peaceful than that?
My Nanny would always tell me that whenever you see the sun rays shining down, that means God is performing a miracle.
So every time I see the sky looking that beautiful, I not only think of her but wonder, “What miracle is God performing right this moment?”
Sunday, my lazy bum watched TV all day long. It was nice having the apartment–and the TV–to myself. Of course I watched the obligatory Hallmark movie, but later I found a show on TLC called Extreme Couponing. I’m sorry to say, but these ladies are crazy! Some of them spend 40 hours or more a week just clipping coupons.. That’s a freaking full time job! BUT, they save hundreds and hundreds of dollars at the cash register. They have couponing down to the tee.
It made me inspired, so I jumped on the web and started reading about couponing. Realistically, it’s near impossible to save as much as these women (and one guy) do, but what’s the harm in saving some mula?
So yesterday I walked to my nearest corner stores and found a leftover Sunday paper–which was the most recommended method of finding coupons. I took it home and started clipping. Jesus Christ there were a crapload of coupons! I didn’t even get halfway through the ads..
But in the middle of cutting coupons, I realized I used to do this with my Nanny. We would spend our weekend clipping coupons so that we could get discounts on various items. It almost became a moment lost in time.. Hopefully I’ll enjoy the savings even more than sitting down and cutting every single coupon that I might need one day.
I’ll try to keep updating on savings–if they’re recognizable at least!
It was unbearable to see Nanny in pain. She had blisters from being in bed, not able to move. Hospice care provided morphine so she would be more comfortable. Although she felt better, it made her very tired. Her organs were starting to fail–she had absolutely no appetite. Her breathing would slow but would become a short, raspy noise. The booklet from hospice said this was normal yet it was still startling.
One morning I was talking to my mom; she told me she heard Nanny shouting, “Mom… Mom!” during the night. She thought Nanny had gotten clever about getting help. So she would shout “Mom” because she knew my mom’s motherly instinct would kick in. Of course it did. She got up and checked on her, but she was fine. It wasn’t until later that she realized that Nanny wasn’t calling for her, she was calling for her own mother. I wondered if her mother was talking to her.
We were aware that there would be one last burst of energy a few days before her death. Almost every weekend I was staying at my fiance’s house since people were in town to visit. I rarely went over to my mom’s to see how Nanny was doing–terrible, I know. I 
guess I didn’t want to face the reality of it all. It was on one of these weekends that she had her burst of energy. She was sitting in the wheelchair and chatting in the living room with family. The one regret I have is missing this time. I wish I could have been there.
Wednesday morning at 5 or 6 in the morning, my fiance woke me. It was the day before Thanksgiving and exactly a week after her 73rd birthday. My phone was ringing. I already knew what it meant, no words had to be spoken. My mom was crying. Automatically, I started crying too. Nanny was gone. There was no way I could drive home with tears in my eyes. My fiance dropped me off at my mom’s house where family was already starting to gather. Nanny had passed peacefully in her sleep.
Memory keeps loved ones ever near us. Sunshine fades & shadows fall – but sweet remembrance outlasts all.
We said our good-byes before the funeral home came to pick her up. While they were taking her out, we walked outside so we didn’t have to watch. It was one of the worst times in my life–but I have never seen my family come together in such a loving way. We were all there for each other. Everyone shared stories of Nanny and we recalled happier times. We smiled through our tears and she brought us together for one last time.
The next day was Thanksgiving and it was planned to be at mom’s since Nanny was there, but now she was gone. That day most of us were just going through the motions. I have no memories of that day and neither does my family; it’s as if we were just running on zombie mode.
Friday, I had to buy clothes for the wake and funeral. I was getting ready to go shopping and it began to snow. SNOW! Remember, I live in Houston, Texas. It only lightly snows here about every 10 years. I felt it was a gift from Nanny. She had lived in Ohio for part of her life and loved the snow there. She was telling us, “Everything is going to be alright.” I enjoyed seeing the snow; it was the only time in my life that snow actually stayed on the ground for a bit.
At the wake, there were family and friends, some of which I had never met. Nanny’s siblings, her co-workers, the room was filled and poured over to the outside. Even her past boyfriend was there, I remembered him from my childhood. The funeral was the next day and was a celebration of her life. Extended family came together to reminisce and we made a slide show of Nanny’s pictures 
throughout her life. To make it feel more like a commemoration, rather than a funeral, we wore our bright colors like Nanny always did. I tribute my colorful wardrobe to her.
Almost a couple of years later, the family is still dealing with her loss. Grief is an unusual creature; it affects everyone differently. One of my uncles that was distant, became close to us again. Another is still angry about the whole situation and blames anything or everything for the cancer. While I’m sure the rest of us think about her everyday but it’s just a silent thought in our day. Even though the glue that held us together is gone, we still make an effort to see each other.
Spring of the next year, we gathered at her old house. In the backyard, my uncle had planted colored roses along the fence line. They were not in bloom yet, but he decided it would be the perfect place to spread Nanny’s ashes. We all agreed. Each one of us took a turn spreading her ashes and saying a few words or a prayer if we liked. I know it wasn’t the same for everyone, but it was a spiritual experience for me.
One of her wishes was for her ashes to be spread in San Francisco, a city she loved dearly. So when mom and I took a trip to California, we made a stop in San Fran–a city we all once visited together. At pier 39, we scattered her ashes in the water just as she would have wanted. She left her heart in San Francisco…
The holidays, Christmas in particular, was a difficult time for us. It was Nanny’s favorite holiday. She loved buying everyone presents to see the excitement on their face. We went on with the festivities all the same. I was “Santa” passing out presents and everyone unwrapped them. After everything was opened, mom walked in with a huge bag. Inside were slippers and Swiss Army knife keychains for all of her brothers. She also carried envelopes for every family member. This action had deep sentimental value because every Christmas, Nanny would buy a necessity for her all boys and give everyone $50. I know she was watching over us that day.
My posts won’t always be this serious. But this event was a turning point in my life and I felt like I could see my life more clearly. My path changed from things happening to me, to me changing my life.
Nanny was through fighting the cancer. (Not done–she always said cakes are done, while she was through.) She didn’t want to go to a nursing home or hospital, so my mom found her in-home hospice care. Not all of the family agreed, some thought she shouldn’t be “giving up.” But Nanny believed she had lived a long and fulfilled life. She was 72 when she was put on hospice care.
The first company that was chosen unfortunately did not work out since they would forget to bathe her, among other things; they were awfully neglectful. Another hospice company was called–American Hospice–was preferrable, but the process was still confusing.
Hospice is not a place, but a type of care. As the American Cancer Society explains, “hospice care provides humane and compassionate care for people in the last phases of incurable disease so that they may live as fully and comfortably as possible.”
Home life changed drastically. People were in and out of the house–social workers, nurses,
home health aides. It was pure chaos. Nurses were different every time, usually we didn’t even know what they were there for in the first place. They constantly had to explain to us what they were doing during the visit. New equipment was brought in, a new medical bed, bath chair, the walker was replaced with a wheel chair. She could be moved from the bed to the chair so she wouldn’t get restless throughout the day, but her favorite place to sit was in her old rocker.
The family didn’t have the resources to stay with Nanny 24/7, but she needed round the clock assistance. My mom immediately turned the search to her best friend, Connie, who was out of work at the time. Connie was close to the family before, but after this ordeal, she has become one of the family. She took care of Nanny like she was her own mother. We will never be able to give enough thanks to Connie for taking care of Nanny in such a loving and caring way.
Every day was a long process for her caregivers, I was just a witness to the painstaking actions that had to be done daily. They would take her blood pressure and prick her finger for her blood glucose levels. I couldn’t bring myself to prick her, even though she was used to it, but I did learn to put strips in the lancet. Many, many other measures were taken–but I will spare you the details.
She had shared her feelings, saying she felt like a burden to the family. It was an extremely difficult time, but she was not a burden. She was our grandmother, mother, sister, cousin, friend–she was very important in all of our lives.
Her eating and sleeping habits changed often. She began to eat less and sleep more. Connie made her full meals, of which she would only take a couple bites. She became finicky about food and refused certain foods. She loved popsicles but adamantly did not want the blue popsicles, they “tasted funny,” as she said. When she no longer wanted to eat, we would swab her lips with water so she wouldn’t be dehydrated. If she preferred a taste of something different, we would swab her lips with juice.
Nanny slept all times of the day when she was bedridden, but told us she had problems sleeping at night. I can only guess that she would watch TV and pray. She was a very religious and spiritual woman. She kept a rosary by her bed and would recite her Catholic 
prayers. Eventually she would silently hold the rosary, but I’m sure she was repeating the prayers in her head. I loved this side of her; she had strong convictions and would not budge from them.
Nanny was always a very positive and outgoing person. At the last stages of her life, she began to fade. She became very quiet and preferred to watch TV, especially the novelas which are spanish soap operas.
Many loved ones would come to visit her in the evening and sit and talk with her. It was very energy draining for her. On several occasions, family would visit from Dallas. My room became known as the “guest room,” and I would stay with my fiance at the time. (I’m no longer with him, but that’s another story.)
I felt the easiest time to talk to her was when she was tired. She looked asleep but I could tell by her facial cues that she could hear me. I may not have said everything I wanted to say, but I told her how I felt. I expressed to her that when she felt ready, she could go. The family would be okay. I’m sure other family members told her the same thing..
