The month of May was an extremely difficult month. This was the month that we lost Grandma Wayment. Due to an infection in her leg, that she had been dealing with for several months, she ended up in the hospital.
None of us realized how bad the infection was, but it had gotten to the point where she needed surgery and we were told that she could ultimately lose her leg if it didn't go well. I felt very strongly that I needed to be in the hospital, so I cancelled everything, packed up Coco and I (Devin and the other girls had work and school), and drove the 6 hours to McKay Dee Hospital. She never recovered from that surgery. Most of the family gathered in her hospital room, some for the whole day, some coming in and out. She was still able to talk to us a little, ask for things, and show us that she was aware that we were there that first day after surgery. She even flirted with the male nurse a little and when we teased her said, "Don't make fun of me!" But she was clearly struggling. We fed her ice chips, sang her favorite songs, held her hands, put chapstick on her lips, and told stories. It was like a reunion, only under much harder circumstances. That first night everyone left that hospital room, but I just couldn't leave her. Thankfully my In-Laws came to get Coco and took her to their house to sleep. That is a night that I will never forget. As sleepless and painful as it was for her, I saw the work of Heaven beginning to take place. She called out to me several times for water, throughout that night... I didn't know that those would be some of the last words I would hear from her. She also cried out several times saying, "My baby. Where's my baby? I need my baby." At one point in that early morning, I began to question the purpose of her pain and my mind flooded with thoughts. I instantly had a prompting to write it down. This is what I wrote:
It is the wee hours of the morning. After a night of watching my Grandmother come in and out of consciousness. In and out of pain. Excruciating pain. The kind that I have yet to experience. I have spent the night praying that God would end her suffering. That He would take her Home. That is not a prayer I ever thought I would pray. You see, my grandmother and I have always been very close. We shared a special bond that I could neither explain nor replicate with anyone else. I could have never imagined a time that I would be praying for her to be taken from this world. Until last night. Because it is much harder to see her suffering. Especially when I know she would much rather be with her sweetheart on the other side. As the dawn breaks and sounds of her gasping for breath continue, I wonder why prayers haven't been heard. And why she must continue to suffer so.
"...but that the works of God should be made manifest in her."
What works could God possibly manifest through so much suffering? And then it hits me. I think about the day before. The hospital room filled to capacity with family. A broken family. But one still full of love. Stories are told. Joke are made. There's a catching up that long overdue. This is where I see God. Because with busy schedules and different lives to lead, it is only under these circumstances that we are brought together. And I wonder... Is this how heaven should feel?
But there's more. Because I replay the day in my mind and I watch the moments in between the stories and the jokes. And these moments are 1,000 times more precious than the others. I see a son and a daughter grappling with the decisions that need to be made about their mother. Not just easy decisions like what kind of broth to get her. But the really difficult ones. The ones that make the difference between life and death. I see grandchildren stepping in to help, comfort, give love, and try to lift their grandmother. A widow. Who is suffering. And there it is. I connect the dots. We are being taught how to minister. How to care for the widows. To comfort those in need of comfort. And I see God there. In the stroking of her hair. In the soaking of sponges to give her a drink. In the spoon feeding of broth and application of chapstick. In the darkest hours of the night. And even in the pleadings to the Father to spare her the pain. Because that is what Jesus would do. It is in these excruciating moments that we learn to become like Him. That we learn to serve as He would serve. And this is how we create our Heaven.
After writing that all down, Grandma once again regained consciousness and began asking for her kids, Kevin and Vicky in particular. I tried explaining that they would be coming in soon to calm her down, but every once in awhile she would call out for them. As well as continuing to call out for "my baby." In the early morning, once Kevin and Vicky arrived and I shared the details of the night with them, it was decided that she needed to be given a blessing of comfort and to return home. After the blessing Grandma cried, "Oh Kevin." He tearfully responded, "I know, Mom. I know." So much was said in that moment. And those were her last words. Once again the family filled her hospital room. But as the day passed on there was less and less of her. Her spirit kept fighting to be there but her body was done. After a few days of this one of the doctor's commented that she might be hanging on because her whole family was around her (she always was a glutton for attention). So we were kindly asked to no longer gather. We each said our goodbyes and left the room. She left a couple days later.
The funeral was held a couple weeks later. I don't remember much in between those couple of weeks. I felt her loss deeply and it impacted me more than I realized it would. I was also asked to speak and it was one of the hardest things. How could I put her life into one measly talk? But I managed and I was grateful for the opportunity to talk about one of my favorite people. It was a beautiful service and a beautiful day. She would have loved it. But now she is back with her sweetheart, working on the other side.
After the funeral the family gathered at her house to take the things that we wanted to remember her by. I happened upon one of her wigs, put on a dress, and almost resurrected Lyndsay.
Being spoiled on Mother's Day.
Coco (and I) graduated preschool! Hard to believe that I will likely never be teaching another preschool lesson ever again! Coco is such a smart kid and I am excited to see how she will grow and learn as she enters school. I'm not going to lie, these final milestones are getting harder and harder!
Hiking Scout Cave. Devin and I love to hike together and try to get out as much as we can.
Addy's First Job! Another milestone that I'm not sure that I'm ready for. She works for the city at the aquatic centers. She will work mostly in the summers but a do a few shifts during the school year to keep her job.
Beautiful night to gather.
May was a difficult month indeed. But God, in His infinite mercy, blessed us in so many ways leaving His mark that will forever be felt. It is during month's like these that I am so grateful for my knowledge of our loving Heavenly Father and our Savior Jesus Christ. It is only because of Them that I know that death is not the end.
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