About ten minutes later my brother walked into the room. I could tell right away that he was in worse shape than I was. He sat in the corner and I could tell he was fighting back tears. Again, mom dragged him up to her bedside but when she told him to talk to her, he couldn't. He looked like I felt; a grown adult reduced to child-like fear on the border of breaking down. He couldn't get a word out. Mom said, "Can you see Jason?" She nodded her head yes.
Grandma is hooked up to a machine that breathes for her, a tube down her throat and can't talk even if she wanted to. But she's not moving her limbs and she goes in and out of "sleep". An MRI showed no sign of stroke. She is communicating, she's in there. She heard us talking about her and her eyes flew open...I said, maybe she can hear us talking about her. She nodded yes.
My sister, her husband (that's still so weird to say!) and their two kids came to see grandma...both kids stood (well, Jack got hoisted because he's only 6) next to Grandma and talked to her. She saw them both, she nodded. She moved her right arm twice but who knows if it was voluntary or not.
While we were sitting there a little whimsical tune played over the loudspeaker. I wouldn't have noticed it except my aunt said, "oh there's another one! That's three today!" I asked what she was talking about. A baby was just born, she said. Every time a baby is born they play the tune over the loud speaker throughout the hospital I guess. I don't know what that shocked me so much but it did. With so much illness and struggle and others on their death bed I just couldn't comprehend that babies were being born under the same roof. The circle of life was going on all around me, just one floor above me. I can't explain why but it rattled me.
We decided to leave as a group, my siblings and me. My sister and her clan wanted to go up to the nursery and look at the babies. My uncle had just arrived and was talking to her; he was moving around quite a bit in front of her and she was following him with her eyes. Before I left I got in Grandma's face again and told her that I was leaving. I asked if she could see me, she nodded yes. I said, you get better, OK? No nodding, just a blank stare. I repeated myself and nodded my own head yes, as if to coax her into nodding hers too. She hesitated and my heart sank. But a second later she nodded her head yes. I smiled.
Grandma's future is pretty grim I guess. It's hard to decide what to do next, a choice that my mom and her siblings now have to make. I don't know how they are supposed to do that since she's still able to somewhat communicate; it's hard to know what is best for her at this point. My mom says she feels helpless and I don't blame her. I feel the same way, there are no words to describe it.
My Grandpa went to see her on Sunday and he went to her ear and said, "It's me, Margie. I'm here". And through closed eyes the tears rolled down her face.
Easter was the last time she was up and at it on her own. She told me that even though they had sold their van and she couldn't drive anymore, Grandpa still had his license and was saving the money he wins at Bingo and was going to buy them a clunker so they could drive. Where are you going to go, I asked. She shrugged and said, "Anywhere we want to I suppose".
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