A time to mourn

Warning ~ If you wanted something cheery or funny this may not be the blog for you today.
I sat down to type a post several times over the last few days but ended up going away in tears or deleting it all. There is so much to say that I don't know what to say. Forgive me while I think "on-line" and type a few thoughts out.

Nana's death, the trip to Coleman, and the sweet funeral and burial that followed opened a floodgate of memories and emotions. It is hard to explain. I find myself rejoicing for her passing yet truly mourning her. The tears come unexpectedly and often and usually there is a little laughter in the mix. Nana Ruth was such a huge part of my life growing up. The first 27 years of my life my grandparents were seldom more than 75 miles away and I saw them often.

Nana and Grandaddy had a huge role in determining who I am. I was their first grandchild. I'm the only grandchild Nana ever had to spank. (Even though she regretted it later, I know it was probably deserved.) I was not what they were expecting. My Mom and Aunt were dark haired, dark eyed, babies with well defined features. I was born with "peach fuzz" for hair, chunky all over and had very blue eyes. I was not quiet and demure like my mother. I played with matches, climbed trees and scaled the kitchen cabinets. I was known to take myself for walks around the block at age two and try to cook on the stove at age three. I always wanted to go, go, go , and I talked...A lot. I was a handful.

But Nana and Grandaddy didn't seem too shocked or put out with me. In fact I loved being with them and just took for granted that they liked having me around. I loved spending days by myself in Coleman. I loved when they came to Angelo for their doctors appointments. I still remember sitting in the front yard for what seemed an entire afternoon waiting for their car pull into our driveway. I usually cried when they left, even though it would probably be just be a week or two until I saw them again. At an early age I realized my grandparents were special. I have many memories of Nana telling Grandaddy "Caskey we have the best daughters and the best grandkids...How did we ever get so lucky." We were really the lucky ones and we knew it.

Nine years ago this March my Grandaddy died. My Nana was never the same. I'm not sure any of us have been. After Grandaddy, Nana seemed to loose a part of her spunky self. The dementia crept in and eventually robbed her of most of her short term memory. My parents moved to Coleman hoping to keep Nana in her house. They realized a year or so later that they needed help so they all moved to Waco. After a nasty fall into a plate glass cabinet door, we knew that no house would be safe for Nana.

Nana lived in an assisted living center for a while but it wasn't enough for her. Every two or so years since we moved Nana to Waco's newest, nicest care facility. Each facility got better as Nana got worse. I blocked out so much of what was happening then with Nana. I tried to become emotionally numb but the first time she didn't realize who I was, it broke my heart. I stopped going to see her very often because it was so hard on her and me. She once followed me to the door crying and begging me to take her. I never went by myself again. It was easier to live with the guilt of not seeing her than to live with the painful reality that Nana wasn't Nana anymore. That was how it was for several years. Then last Thursday it looked as though the end was near and we all went to say goodbye.

Late that night my cousin and I were alone with just our Moms and Nana. At one point Mom said she thought Nana said my name. When I bent over her bed to talk to her (she couldn't hear very well) she opened her eyes and looked at me and said "There she is!" It was loud and clear enough for everyone in the room to hear. It truly pierced my heart to see that my grandmother not only knew me, but seemed really glad I was there. For just a breif second, she was my Nana again and I was her beloved first grandchild. That moment is a precious gift I will cherish always. Nana went to sleep less than an hour later and, as far as we know, never woke up again.

There is still a lot to process, but above all I am happy Nana is home. I am glad she is with my Grandaddy and so many other loved ones who passed on years ago. I'm glad my Mom and Aunt don't have to see their mother that way anymore. I'm glad we can let the last nine years go and remember the good times, because there were so many! But still it is hard to think that I will never see my Nana this side of heaven again. I'll never hear her sweet voice or catch a glimpse of that mischievous twinkle in her eye. After years of trying not to think about Nana, I find these past few days that I can think of little else. I guess that is what you do when one of your favorite people in the world dies.

I thank God that Ruth and Caskey Livingston were my grandparents! I hope and pray I can live up to and pass on the legacy of love and Christian servanthood that they left for me and my family to follow. My family has shared so much laughter over the past days remembering our grandparents. And there have been tears, mostly sweet tears of goodbye. My Mom and Aunt are doing as well as they can be expected to do. I know we will all be just fine soon. This is just our time to mourn.