I just spoke to my mother, who is gearing up for a visit to my grandmother, who has been in a care facility for probably a year and a half now. She had been having some problems with slipping in and out of consciousness in the sense that she was technically conscious, but unaware of her actions and surroundings. She had recurring UTIs that worsened whatever was wrong in the first place, which doctors have yet to pinpoint--which doctors have stopped trying to pinpoint. They tell her children that "Mama is old." My aunts and uncle have come to believe that a radiation treatment on her eyes is to blame. I saw her during Hurricane Katrina, when I was 7 months pregnant with Doodle, and she was strong--sad, but strong. I saw her when Doodle was 6 months, and have pictures of her holding my older daughter--her second great-grandchild. She was having some hip problems, but was very much herself--though lonely, and sad. Praying her rosary on her porch when we drove up; she had thought that we wouldn't make it to see her before heading back to Texas, but I felt very strongly that she needed to see Doodle. The last time I saw her, I was very newly pregnant with Chiclette. She had been in the home for months by that point, but was in the ER after a fall and another UTI was discovered. After weeks of not seeming to recognize anyone, she was aware that we were coming to visit, and asked about us. She faded out once or twice while we were there, but for the most part, she was herself, only weak and sad. Not too weak to banter with the physical therapy people and give them a difficult time, and aware enough to express her humiliation and the pain it caused her. She asked my son about school, tried to get a shy Doodle to talk to her. On my way out, I told her that I was pregnant. She was so pleased & surprised. I wasn't used to the idea myself, but I thought it would be good to leave her with some hopeful news--something to look forward to. Returning home, I agonized about her care, which, I understood, was not too good. Her 6 surviving children (of 7) visit her daily, as they can. None of them know about me calling the nursing home to make sure she was taken the Eucharist regularly. It seemed like the only thing I could do. The woman I spoke to understood my concern, and knew what I meant when I said that I doubted that it would seem a priority to any of her family who were there. She had been taken out of Mass one day by one of my aunts, who was indignant that she had been in Mass in the first place. This did not surprise me, and it may have been that she should not have been out of her room. After all, they did not heed the sign that said that my grandmother was a "fall risk," and they let her fall, which was the immediate cause of her hospitalization the last time I saw her. . .
I have heard very little since then. I understand that she has varying levels of awareness from day to day, week to week, hour to hour. Very soon after I had my Chiclette (a week or two), someone printed a picture of me with both girls on my lap rocking them to sleep and brought it for her to see. She was aware enough to tell them to tell me that I was doing a good job. It wasn't just postpartum hormones that brought tears to my eyes. Since then, I have fished a bit to see if she was aware of the pictures I sent at Christmas, but no one will say. My mom will be taking new pictures of us to her tomorrow. My mom wants to print them out in poster size. I wish my grandmother could see my Chiclette in person. I want her to be aware. I pray for her to be aware. But when I asked about it, my mom remarked that she eats well sometimes, and has better days and worse days, but that my aunt thinks that her responses are automatic--that my grandmother has memorized what the correct responses are to certain questions and comments. Basically, that there is no consciousness or self awareness behind the responses at all. And how does she know this exactly? Is there anything to this assumption besides weariness and loss of hope from someone who has been bearing the weight of her mother's illness for going on two years now? Might there be some comfort in thinking that her mother is not aware of the bad things if she's not aware of the good? I see this as very dangerous thinking. The family has criticized my grandmother's doctor for waiting for her to die. Well, that's the feeling I get from this doubting of her awareness. And I am more apprehensive since I have no idea that there is any religious belief at all left in my extended family. I know that one aunt's MySpace page indicates that she considers herself agnostic. When I see "atheist" or "agnostic" listed on the profile of someone I care about, I feel a little spasm inside. My aunts & uncle fell away from Catholicism decades ago, though I'm sure there is an element of Christianity remaining for all of them in some corner of their consciousness. But then, I considered myself Christian for many years while embracing the notion that as long as I was "true to myself" (whatever that means) and vaguely ethical, I would be O.K. with God since he must be too busy to worry about me, right? That Christian-flavored-agnosticism made any manner of things O.K. And, well, I'm concerned with the implications of this line of thought for my grandmother. Christian-flavored-agnosticism does not view dignity of life issues in the way I have come to view them through Catholicism. Because really, that worldview is one without hope. And when you have no hope for the next life, one's comfort and awareness in this life is of ultimate value. If that is gone, then one's life is invalid.
I believe that my grandmother is conscious and aware on some level. I hope for her to be able to express this awareness. I pray for her patience and endurance and comfort. I would like, above all things, for the pictures of my family to allow her self to be manifest to those around her, so that they will know that she is still who she has always been.
3 comments:
What a beautiful post. I'm sure you know that ensuring your grandmother receives the Eucharist is the best service you can do for her. What a comfort it is, too, to know that she is receiving the sacrament. When my father was in the hospital for the last time, the first thing my mother told me was that he had received the Sacrament of the Sick, had made his confession, and had received the Eucharist. Most comforting not only to him but to his survivors.
I completely understand your concern about the dignity surrounding your grandmother's life. As you pointed out, whatever her awareness level, her importance to her family - to you especially - serves a vital purpose. And you never know what God may have in mind in bringing your family back to the Church through your grandmother. Sometimes the smallest baby step is all it takes to lead to other steps. Whatever God's plans are every person serves a greater purpose than may meet the eye. We pray that God gives us the Grace to meet that purpose and to see that wonderful purpose in others.
Anyway, I just wanted to reiterate that your post was beautiful. In my opinion, one of your best. God bless your grandmother and you, her granddaughter, who obviously loves her so much.
Thank you for the comment on this post--and for the compliment. My grandmother was always a very vibrant person, and I spent a lot of time with she and my grandfather when I was younger, especially in middle and high school. She is the only person I know who is a more accomplished seamstress than my mother! And her cooking to me is the ideal of cajun home cooking--though she learned from her mother-in-law and not from her mother! It is sad to think that those skills are trapped inside her now, you know? She never seemed to me like the usual "old lady"/grandmother type. She was tough. Still is, actually. Her own parents lived well into their nineties--self aware, for the most part, until the end. She is, I believe, close to 80 now, but for all of the complications, in generally good health! At any rate, there's nothing life-threatening.
How comforting to know that your father received Last Rites. After becoming Catholic, I agonized about my grandfather, who died after lingering in the hospital for many months and contracting secondary infections--as someone terrified of death, this was one of his greatest fears. He had a Catholic funeral, but I do not know if he was Annointed, and I am somewhat hesitant to ask any of my relatives because I know that it would not be something they would consider important.
My grandparents were the closest to practicing Catholics in all of my family--and, well, I don't think they went to Mass regularly even so... But yes, they were an important influence on me.
Thanks again for your comment, and the chance to reminisce!
I'll keep her -- and all your family-- in my prayers.
My grandmother, who just turned 92, came to our wedding but I haven't seen her since. I so wish we could get out to visit her so she could meet Isabella and Sophia. But she lives in a small town in the middle of Illinois and we'd have to fly to Chicago or maybe Springfield and rent a car. And well money is tight and I just don't see how we can manage. But I have a great fear of her dying before she gets to meet her great-granddaughters. At this time in her life most of her friends are dead and she pretty much lives for news of her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. She's a wonderfully spunky woman and I really regret not knowing her better.
Anyway, I'm rambling on but I guess it having just been Mother's Day, it's an appropriate time to think about her. Thank you for sharing about your experiences.
Post a Comment