At a loss for words

It is not often that I am at a loss for words, but right now is one of those times. I have sat down to write this entry about a dozen times in the past week and a half, and don't feel that anything I write can convey my feelings. At 10:45 AM, on 12/11/10, we lost my beloved grandmother, "Nana" as she was referred to by all of her grandchildren, and even some who were not related to her. She was truly the BEST. I am sure everyone says that about their grandmothers, but I can say with certainty that she was :)

I was the first grandchild, and the only one for the first 5 years of my life. After my brother came along when I was 5, it was yet another 6 years before another grandchild was born, so we always had an especially close relationship with Nana. She is part of almost every single childhood memory I have. We got our ears pierced together when I was 10 and she was 60. She attended my school plays, concerts, graduation from every school I attended (including college in New York), and she danced at my wedding. She held my son, her first great-grandchild, in her arms when he was a baby and later gave him a ride on her wheelchair when he was a toddler. We vacationed together, sunbathed together by her pool, celebrated holidays and birthdays together, and she babysat me more times than I can count.

Nana had been living in a nursing home for the past 3.5 years but thrived, and remained in decent health, with all of her wits about her. Mentally, she was all there right up until the very end. She had been in the hospital shortly before Thanksgiving with an infection, and after her release she progressed downhill very fast. She wasn't able to come to my uncle's house for Thanksgiving dinner, but we all thought she would bounce back and we'd see her at the next holiday. I was in town for Thanksgiving and visited her twice. She even offered to give Ryan a ride on her wheelchair again. She didn't look good though, and I left her room knowing in my heart that it was quite possibly the last time I would ever see her. My mother had been keeping me informed that the decline was happening quickly, and she wasn't sure how much longer it would be. That last week of her life I began grieving and preparing myself for the worst. But nothing can ever prepare you, can it?

Two weeks ago, I called my parents on a Saturday morning to check in on Nana. I could tell by my Dad's voice that things were not ok. he told me that my mom and her siblings had been called to the nursing home at 5:30 that morning and that they were around her bedside waiting for her to pass. He told me to stay put until I heard from him again, but as soon as I hung up the phone, I began packing. When he called me back at 11:00 to say she had passed peacefully a little while before, surrounded by those she loved, I told him we were almost packed and ready to go. I had to be there - for my mom, for my family, and for me. We arrived around 8:00 pm, and after a somewhat emotional embrace with parents, and Aunt and Uncle, Ryan entered the room and immediately lightened the mood and put a smile on everyone's faces. Thank goodness for children and the circle of life.

It was a tough week, I won't lie. The wake and funeral were emotionally grueling, but uplifting as well. Hundreds of friends and family came through the funeral home to express their condolences, and we saw just how many lives she had touched. We weren't the only ones who loved her, that's for sure. I wrote and delivered the eulogy, and I know I made her proud. She deserved to have someone stand up there who knew her best, and could talk about all her best qualities, and the wonderful life she lived. And I think I did that. The downtime at my parents house was actually harder than the services. Too much time to think is never a good thing, and we had plenty of time to think. I didn't sleep well all week, and still am not back to my normal sleeping habits.

Although last week was tough, this week feels worse. Reality is setting in, and it is hard to rally any Christmas spirit after feeling such a profound loss. I know that we need to move on and celebrate the blessings we do have, and she would want us to do that. It's not going to be easy though.

Nana, we miss you so much and we will love you forever. You are a part of who we are - your family, your friends, and all those who knew you. As I said in my eulogy, I know that wherever you are, you are smiling down on us, in your beach chair, basking in the sun, toes touching the ocean water, with a margarita in hand.