my life is quieter these days...

I no longer carry my phone w/ me everywhere… expecting THE phone call at any moment.

I no longer wake in the middle of the night and look at my phone … to see if I missed THE phone call.

I no longer jump to answer the phone when it rings… thinking it’s THE phone call.


I no longer drive 30 miles south a few times a week… and no longer get to have Saturday morning breakfast with my Grampa.

I no longer have that extra quiet time in the car… to process the daily grieving and think through the family issues related to Grampa’s end of life.

I no longer spend extra money on gas… and yet in a heartbeat I’d spend it all over again for one more trip south to see my Grampa.


Having family around more often over the past few months has been cathartic.

Even in the hard times we were laughing… that’s just how we roll.

The laughter with the family will resume… once we come together again to spend time with each other.


Until then... it's quiet these days.


So in the absence of the phone ringing (and long conversations with family) and the long drives and the enjoyable & necessary family time… I now catch up on "reading people and meeting books".

These were just a few of the things on my ‘to do (eventually)’ list… and now my time has been freed up a bit so that I can resume checking off the list. This week alone I have taken 3 naps, finished 3 books I was in the middle of and have actually made dinner every night...

Other items on my 'to do' list: scan in old family slides, host a girls’-only dinner in the backyard, enjoy my Saturday mornings at home (my favorite time to be at home – if you know me well you know I protect this time as much as possible), etc.

Life resumes… but now without Grampa.

And while I miss him dearly everyday I’m kind of jealous that he has been reunited with Gramma. We love you both and know that you have smiles on your faces once again…

His last words to me...

His last words to me.


"I love you too..."


It was his muffled response to my "I love you, Grampa!" I kissed his temple and brushed his hair back over his forehead. I was saying goodbye for the day, a short visit. But an important visit.


The next day his body fell into a deep sleep, his body fighting for the next 72 hours. All the effort his body could give ... it was focusing on his heart beat and his breathing. He was with us for a few more days... but he never awoke again.


Sitting next to him, off and on for several days, singing "Amazing Grace"... praying for him... hoping his last breath would be peaceful... sharing fond memories... laughing to him as I recalled funny stories... hoping my meager efforts could make his last few days as comfortable as possible.


Family came and went... we laughed, we cried, we loved him.


We were ready to say our "goodbye" and longed for him to be in a better place.


And in his last minutes, when his breating was long and labored, it was still peaceful. He took a breath... and then there wasn't another breath.


We gathered 'round and cried a bit. We said "Thank you, Jesus!" And eventually we resumed laughing. Some might think this is inappropriate... but that's how we handle life.


More than anything... we are happy he is in a better place.

He has stopped eating...

It started roughly 3 weeks ago... leading up to that we realized his eating abilities had slowed down. It would take a while for him to chew his few bites of food. He would eat about half of his meal... and then he would grab for his napkin. In his world, that is the international sign for "It's time for dessert".


Then something switched in his body. About 3 weeks his eating nearly stopped. While he would eat a few bites at meals - most of it would come back out. Or he would "pocket" the food - hold it in his cheek. Sometimes he would swallow it - sometimes he wouldn't. His caregivers took the time to explain that at that point it's dangerous to put more food in his mouth or give him liquids. It's obviously a choking hazard. So the struggle ensued to encourage him to eat, but he can't be forced.


He is still drinking liquids (but only his favorites) - he sure LOVES his chocolate nutritional drink, holding on to it for dear life. However, he can't be fooled when we hand him a vanilla drink - he makes a sour face and pushes it away.


Now, 3 weeks later...

He won't eat his favorite mashed potatoes and gravy...
He won't eat meat (his mother is turning over in her grave!)...
He won't ...

He just won't...


Regardless, he will eat vanilla ice cream. The whole bowl of it...

As his family knows he has always enjoyed his ice cream.


(insert childhood memory here)
On any given night... Grampa would sit down with his dessert: a bowl of ice cream and cake/brownies/cookies. (Back in the day, Gramma would make a new dessert almost every night.) But somehow it would never "COME OUT EVEN". He would either run out of cake and still have ice cream left, or the other way around.

He would rise from his favorite chair to go back to the kitchen (and if you looked closely you could see a grin cross his mouth)... he needed either more ice cream or more cake (or more of both). And in true Grampa form, sometimes on the second round it wouldn't "come out even" again... and so we'd get to see another one of those cute grins.


And back to today... he may only be days to weeks away from closing up the final chapter of his life.

So it is appropriate: in his last days, the only thing he will eat is ICE CREAM.


It's a bittersweet realization... but appropriate.