Reflections on aging and dying

It has been 5 years since my Meemo passed.

5 years.

In the time she was dying, I posted notes on Facebook.  That was my journaling at the time.  It was all I could do.  I told myself that one day I would reflect more on the process, but I haven't.

At the time she was dying, I was also taking a bioethics class in seminary on aging and dying.  We had to write our own funeral, among other papers.  It was a difficult semester.  Not only did we cover that topic, but we covered TBI--traumatic brain injury, which is also a topic that hits close to home and we were in the midst of some really major stuff with that too.

This year, as my memories came up of my Meemo, they caught my attention and I noted it had been 5 years.  I don't think I saw every single memory from my time with her, but I captured a few of them.

I thought I would share them here.  I started learning how to walk the journey with folks back when I was a lay person at Grace UMC and visited folks in the hospital.  I was visiting with one church member and the chaplain came in.  She told him I was her pastor.  People saw way before I did where I was heading.  Lucy Buckner blessed me in many ways.  From that visit to my grandmother to many since, I have walked with folks who have taught me much about living well, aging well, and dying well.

I am grateful.

As I share my memories of Meemo's last days, I think about my other two grandmothers.  It isn't that I wasn't close with them, but rather I wasn't with them when they passed and they passed much earlier.  I didn't get as much time with either of them.  Meemo  (Ruth Clark DeLoach) was my maternal grandmother.  Nana (Charlotte Pruden PittmanY, my paternal grandmother, passed away in 1988  And then, my step grandmother, which was not really a "step", Erlene,  (Erlene Waldrop DeLoach) died in 1981.

Here are the memories that have shown up recently about Meemo, starting January 11:

January 11, 2014

Spent three hours with Meemo and Mom today in hospital.  Meemo never opened her eyes but a slight slit while I was there.  She did give some body language and a tiny smile.  My brother Guy got her to open her eyes after I left.  But it's all good.  If it is time to go on, okay.  I will continue to enjoy her presence.  Good time with Mom too.  Just being there.  Presence.


January 17, 2014

Spent about 4 hours today with my grandmother and Mom and some time with Dad.  My grandmother was moved two days ago from the hospital to a place right next door to where she lives.  I can see her porch from her new room.  She drinks thickened liquids and prefers plain water, nothing sweetened.  She ate some yogurt, mashed potatoes, some pureed green vegetable, and vanilla pudding today.  For someone who hasn't eaten in a while, that is a buffet!  I got to meet lots of folks.  The chaplain was one of them.He will be bringing his guitar next week.  I should have asked what day.  Meemo told me about finally being able to find her milk that she was looking for last night.  Twice.  Though I'm not sure where that milk was, we had a good conversation with it.  And we talked about other things too.  Physically, she in hanging in and on.  Though she is weak and rests much.  She smiled several times, especially as I reminded her of different things from the past.  Precious moments.  Extremely grateful.

January 21, 2014

This stuff will always remind me of sleepovers at my grandmothers' house when I was younger.  Last week I shared that memory with her.  Each day is another gift of a well lived life and a journey of dying well.  Meemo started coughing today.  I bet she could use some of this tonight.

["This stuff" and "this" refers to Vick's VapoRub and I included a picture of it in my post.  I will add a picture below.]

January 22, 2014

Difficult day to describe hanging out in my grandmother's room.  Two workers sang beautiful harmonized songs acapella.  A huge food cart was brought to us.  Not much reaction from Meemo, though if I could lip read... maybe.  She is definitely near the end of this leg of the journey, yet didn't go on while I was there.  It is beautiful and peaceful except for the labored breathing, for which medical folks administered helpful relief.  Living into the bioethics class and conference this intimately is not what I intended.  My emotions are very close to the surface and I am not wearing my masks... so you are likely to see some breakdowns if you see me... Shalom

In my comments to the post I posted on January 21, I posted this on January 22:

She (Meemo) raised her eyebrows during one time when my brother Guy and I were discussing our memories of her putting the stuff on us.


Meemo passed away on January 22nd, later that night, but after I had left.  Because she donated her body to Emory University, we didn't have a burial until a year later.  However, there was a memorial at her home church on January 31 at Decatur First United Methodist.

Here is the link for her obituary.

I wrote this small section between prior to finding the January 23rd notes below.  I had missed one of my "memories" and went looking for it.  I decided to leave what I wrote above in here.   Reading below, note that I mention that I will write "one day".  Here it is, 5 years later.  I get it.  I still had papers for a bioethics class.  And, if you look at my blog, a 4 year old died later that spring.  There were lots of things going on and it wasn't easy to get the stuff out, to process.  I did process it all, in a sense.  I allowed the brokenness that I experienced to shine the light.  Yet, I didn't put it all together in one place.  It isn't fully complete.  Nor will it ever be.  Yet, the journey process is a tad more sequential here.


January 23, 2014

My Mom called last night at 10:42pm. They had found her (Meemo) in her room, gone. We don't have the exact time, but it's okay. What I thought of is that she was finally able to go home... not to "104 Broad Street" in Statesboro that she wanted two weeks ago and at Christmas, but to her Creator. And, though in my faith tradition, I don't use the term "Beulah Land" often, that came to mind last night. Yesterday was definitely a blessing, even in the difficulty. Two weeks ago was when we gave her permission to go on home when she was in the hospital and she kept on hanging on and rallied significantly on Monday to where she was up in a wheelchair doing exercises and eating. But, that was a gift for my Mom. Yes, I'm sad and I'm having and will have my moments. However, overall, I'm relieved and glad that Meemo is no longer in pain and that she is whole again--mentally, physically, and spiritually. She was the last of my grandparents to remain. And she was a spiritual mentor. She has donated her body to Emory. More to come in a blog one day, but not right away. I have papers to write on the aged and dying for bioethics. Meanwhile, enjoy this song by the Gaither Vocal Band.

After Meemo's passing, I continued on to write those papers for the class.

January 24, 2014

Paper #2 for Bioethics on Aging Well, written!  Still need to write Paper #1 on Euthanasia and dying... and my mission paper.  Then, read what I can of the 2nd book and handful (stackful) of articles.  HOWEVER, space of grace has been offered from profs due to my life situation, so I'm not going to overly stress.  Simply feeling grateful for a night to study.  BUT, NOW to take a break before I pick up the hubby from work at 9pm.  I could clean house, but...

As mentioned above, the memorial service was on January 31 in Atlanta.  That was an adventure due to the ice and snow, but it happened.

We buried Meemo's ashes on January 30, 2016 after getting them back from Emory.

You can read about that here.

For anyone going through the process of watching someone age and die, it isn't easy.  Nor is it easy to process our memories going forward.  Yet, we remember the stories and the person.  We share with others.  We keep our loved ones near to us by sharing.

Processing is a personal journey, whether it is processing grief or any emotion or information.  Allow it to be unique to you.  Go with the ebb and flow.  Ride the waves.  Jump through waves.  Duck underneath them.  Get knocked down and get back up.

It's all part of life.  It's all part of the adventure.

It's good to finally be able to process my grandmother's last days, even if it is 5 years later.

Peace,

Debra

Picture of Meemo used in obituary, from 2000

Meemo as a child on left; top right: me, Meemo, Aunt Vicki, Meemo's bday, then Meemo with me