Five More Minutes

DISCLAIMER: this is a long, emotional post. If you don't have the time/energy, bookmark for another day :) 

If you are unfamiliar with Scotty McCreery, the American Idol winner turned country artist, you're missing out. His voice is so soothing, and his music is SO great! Not to mention he grew up the town over from where my parents currently reside. And did I mention he's adorable?

Well, this fine gentleman released a song last year that brings me right back to a moment in time I never thought I'd see. Ever. It's an amazing song that makes you think - what if we had five more minutes? (The song is called Five More Minutes for the people in the back). The final verse stopped me dead in my tracks when I heard it about a week after my Nana passed. When I tell you stopped me dead in my tracks, my chest got tight and I let the most unnatural noise out of my throat. Thankfully I was in my car, in private. 

The lyrics go as follows:

At eighty-six my grandpa said there's angels in the room
All the family gathered 'round knew the time was coming soon
With so much left to say I prayed Lord I ain't finished
Just give us five more minutes

Nana was 85 when she left us. So that verse hit me hard. Even more so, because I was with her when she passed. And I would have given anything to go back in time or get more time with her in the future. I still would. 

It's no secret that we as a family had what can only be described as the worst 6 month stretch known to man last year. First losing Granddaddy on March 31, Nana on June 6, and then Uncle Rob on August 1. All from the same lineage on the same side of the family.  Here's how the week Nana passed rolled out.. 

Dad called me on Sunday that week to tell me that Nana was in the hospital for internal bleeding. The doctors were working to find where it was coming from, and repair it. It had been 65 days since Granddaddy passed, and as cliche as it is, my grandparents were Noah and Allie from the Notebook in the end. We knew she missed him (they were married for just shy of 61 years before he passed), but figured she would overcome whatever it was she was fighting - she was nothing if not a stubborn fighter. I made sure to pray as hard as I could, for her to come out of this okay and enjoy some time with her family. 

Monday, Mom called me. Told he she had talked with Nana, but that it wasn't looking good. The doctors said she was shutting down internally and the end was near, so I should get my butt down to see her as soon as I could. Given the schedule I used to keep, I planned to go down the following day after work. I was unable to be with Granddaddy when he passed, and I felt SO guilty for being so absent - I was not about to let that happen with Nana. Not when she and Granddaddy had done so much for my brother and I throughout the years. No way. 

Tuesday came, and I was anxious about going to see her after work. Like my anxiety was through the ROOF to the point I wasn't able to focus on anything. My aunt texted me to tell me it was looking like it was going to be sooner rather than later - so I mustered up whatever energy I could to keep my emotions at bay, and asked my boss if I could go. I had informed him the day before that it wasn't looking good, and he told me whatever I needed to do he supported. So, I logged off my computer and headed to the hospital. 

At the time I worked in Tewksbury, Masschusetts, which, without traffic, is about 25 minutes north of Boston. Nana was at Milton Hospital in Milton, Massachusetts, which was about 25 minutes south of Boston. I figured by leaving at 245pm on a Tuesday I would be in great shape to get there and spend as much time as I could with her. Boy was I wrong!!! I sat in 2 and a half hours of traffic to get through the city and to the hospital. The entire time I was sitting in the car, I was praying (I mean - out loud yelling with God) that he wouldn't take her until I got there. I begged and pleaded as I inched my way down the highway. 

Sure enough, I got to the hospital right around 5:20pm. I called my aunt to let her know I was there, and she agreed to meet me when I got off the elevator. I am so unbelievably grateful she came back into my uncle's life when she did (story for another time) and helped take care of both my grandparents. As a nurse, she handled everything with such grace and poise - I don't know how she did it! 

She stopped me before we got to the room. "I don't want you scared or freaked out, but this is what's happening, this is why she looks this way, etc." She ultimately prepared me for what I was walking into, and I don't know if I would have been able to get through the night without the pep talk. 

When I walked into the room, my oldest uncle was sitting in the chair in the corner of the room looking at Nana. She was in a comatose state, but according to the doctor could hear everything we said. I laughed and asked if they were joking. Nana, my entire life, had hearing aids and read lips to understand what was being said around her. But okay doc, she can hear us. *major eye roll*

My aunt and uncle excused themselves so I could have some time with her. If she could hear me, I had some things to say. And none of it was out of malice, spite, or anger. It was all love. I have never told anyone what I said to her, but I figure this is a good platform to do so - because no one can see me cry as I write this, and it's readable.. if I was speaking it, it would be inaudible. 

I held her hand, frail as it was. I smiled as tears rolled down my face - we JUST went through this, and hadn't healed yet - but I realized we had the same nail color on - the EXACT same nail color. Nana was one for bright, bold colors and big floral prints. I got that from her, I suppose. I was (am?) her only granddaughter (by blood.. my aunt has a daughter that called her Nana too), so I got the spoiling when it came to new clothes, dresses for every occasion, and a love for jewelry and being as girly girl as possible. 

As I held her hand, I wasn't sure how to start. I had so much to say and from the sounds of it not much time to do it in. So I started where I knew she would love - Granddaddy. My aunt and uncle had mentioned that she said she saw him in her hospital room, which is when they knew it was time. "He said whenever I'm ready." Okay Nana.. that's enough LOL - I am almost grateful she wasn't lucid when I saw her - that would have made it harder. 

I told her that I understood that she was broken hearted and sad without him, so it's okay that she wanted to be with him. I said "I bet when he sees you, he's going to smile so big and probably take you dancing!" (it's how they met.. literally the cutest love story). I told her to give Morgan (our first dog who she LOVED to visit with) a big hug and kiss for me, and let her know that we're all doing alright, but that Mom missed her the most and still loves her with all her heart. I told her to say hello to Great Gram, Granddaddy's mom, and fill her in on whatever Granddaddy forgot to tell her. I asked her to watch over us, because I knew she would. I apologized for being so absent for so long. That's on me, and I took full ownership for it. There were no appropriate excuses, and she would ALWAYS ask when I was coming to visit, but I brushed it off. It's something I am currently working through, as not only am I feeling guilty but I'm Irish and we hold guilt in rather high regard (eye roll). I kept telling her I was sorry, and eventually felt a weight lifted - almost like she was saying to let it go. 

After about an hour or so, my aunt and uncle came back into the room. I think I had demolished a box of tissues, which if you know anything about hospital tissue boxes, they aren't that big. My aunt, uncle, and I sat around and shared our favorite stories about Nana and Granddaddy, laughed a lot, cried a little, but knew this was ultimately what she wanted - to be with him. We would laugh about how stubborn Nana was (not in any way negative) and how she was always right. Our favorite was how she trained us to NEVER say "nothing" when asked "what did you say?" .. that usually ended with you getting back handed across the arm and ultimately repeating yourself. So to avoid the love smack, we all just automatically repeated ourselves - we'd learned over the years. 

After a little while, a nurse came in to check her meds. This nurse had taken care of Nana when she was in the hospital in January last year. Nana was a tough broad, there's no question and EVERYONE in the family would tell you she was. When she was in the hospital in January, this nurse was petrified of her. My aunt told him that if he asked her how she wanted her tea, and brought it to her, she would love him. Sure enough, he took the best care of her. When he heard she was back, he requested to be her nurse. This man was an angel on earth - I SWEAR. He was so calm, so gentle, so kind. He came in and looked at Nana in the bed "Irene! What are you still doing here?! I told you to go home yesterday and enjoy some time with your son and daughter in law! Are you here to see me?" He knew how to break up what can only be described as complete heartbreak in the air. 

After he adjusted her morphine drip and gave her a shot in her jaw to keep her comfortable, not much changed for a bit. My aunt, uncle, and I were considering going to dinner. We decided to check on Nana one more time before we left, and my aunt had noticed that her heart rate was slowing a little bit, so we stuck around. Nana, God love her, held on for a LONG time. There's an old wive's tale that says people who are leaving this earth will do so if the window is cracked open. We reopened the window a smidge and told her it was okay, that we were going to be okay. We sat with her for about 20 minutes before my aunt noticed her heart rate slow down faster, and knew it was time. She was holding Nana's hand, I was holding her other. My uncle, the jokester, told Nana "okay mom, we're going to touch you now" haha - he's one for comedy. 

She had this push night light that she slept with in the house that was brought to the hospital for her. My uncle, in jest, goes "I really want to put this on her head!" ... which got us all to laugh. We told Nana we loved her, that we will take care of each other, and to say hello to everyone when she got to heaven. 

She passed on at approximately 8:14pm on June 6th. She was SO peaceful, content, and finally back with Granddaddy - where she wanted to be. The doctor and nurse had to come in and make sure she had indeed passed on, and once they confirmed it, phone calls needed to be made. 

Even though I was with her, and talked to her, and told her that I loved her, it was still so heartbreaking to see my little grandmother laying there, at peace. My uncle asked me if I wanted to call my mom, and I couldn't even SAY no, so I just shook my head. I didn't have the heart to tell MY mom that her mom had passed away. He called my mom and told her, which in turn forced my dad to call my brother. My uncle then called his younger brother, and told him Nana was gone. He asked where - and it was in that exact moment I knew that he was not well either. 

I was never really into the whole "signs" thing from the universe until Granddaddy passed. On the ride from his funeral to my grandparents' house, a song came on SiriusXM's station, The Message, that hit me deep in my core. The song is called "Home" and it's by Chris Tomlin. 

Home - Chris Tomlin

As I got in my car to leave the hospital after Nana passed, this song was on. I figured it was a fluke, but then took a deeper look at it. She was telling me she was home, back to full health, and in a place where fear was non existent. She was a very firm believer of the Catholic faith, and always had a rosary with her. This song being on when it was also made me feel like God was saying "I've got her, she's okay. She loves you and will see you again someday. She is no longer suffering." 

I don't care what the medical records say; my grandmother passed away from a broken heart. 

We were able to lay both her and Granddaddy to rest together, in a double urn (literally had no idea these things were in existence till the day of her wake). I made sure to wear a bold, bright pink dress for her funeral - because she would have wanted bright colors celebrating her life, rather than black and sadness. I don't know how my mom did it - but she sang at Nana's funeral without breaking down. She has an incredible gift, and I am in awe of her. My brother and I read the prayers of the faithful - and while it was supposed to be 4 prayers each, he stopped at 3 and I had to step up. I couldn't stop crying once he started reading, so when I had to step up, I was real shaky. He stepped up behind me, put his hand on my back, and told me to take a deep breath. I couldn't look to my mom for support - because I knew she was crying and I wouldn't be able to stand otherwise. I somehow managed to get through them with my brother supporting me, and I will never forget how impactful that was for me. 

We managed to get through the funeral service in one, tear soaked piece, and headed to the cemetery. There was a family plot in the local cemetery that Granddaddy always said he would be buried in, and it was time to make good on that. Nana and Granddaddy were buried together on the side of a hill, and for a brief moment during the graveside service, I swore I saw them standing together, holding hands, watching us all and smiling. I know they were there in spirit. Because we were burying Granddaddy too, and he was a veteran, Mom was presented with a folded flag, and thanked for his service in the military. That flag is now in a flag box in my parents house, with Granddaddy's name engraved on it. 

As heartbreaking and gut wrenching as last year was, we all managed to band together as support for each other. I decided, on the day of Nana's funeral, that I would take a few yellow roses from a bouquet (her favorite flowers) and have a rosary made for Mom, as a nod to Nana. I had the rosary made, and gave it to Mom as a gift this past Christmas. I wanted to be sure she knew how important Nana was to me, but also that she is always with her. I have a chaplet hanging from my mirror that reminds me daily that she's with me and watching over me. 

If you made it this far, congratulations. 

Grief is a process, and we all cope differently. Some of us shut down and distance ourselves from our family and loved ones. Some of us talk about it a little too much. Some of us don't talk about it at all. We need to be understanding and sympathetic, but also work through our grief as we see fit. I posted a little nod to Nana today on Instagram and Facebook, because I want to keep her memory alive. I want to celebrate the grandmother she was, because she was my grandmother and had an impact on my life. 

This is probably the longest post I'll ever share on here, and I appreciate you reading it. I know it's a lot to take in, and wouldn't judge if you needed some time away from this blog. I promised open honesty, and that is what you get here. This is THE MOST raw, vulnerable post I've ever had to write, and feel a sense of peace. Everything happens in life for a reason, and it took me a year to come to terms with all this grief - and hopefully help someone going through grief themselves. 

Never feel like you're alone. You are not rushed to get through grief. Take the time you need to. Be around family and friends. And always know you have a safe person in me. If any reader needs to talk, I am readily accessible and happy to support. 

Nana, I love you. I hate walking into your house and you're not there. I love that you took so many pictures throughout my childhood and will hold those very close to my heart. I hope that you are catching up with everyone that was waiting for you when you left us, and that you and Granddaddy are holding hands walking, waiting for us to meet you again. I wish I had five more minutes with you, Granddaddy, and Uncle Rob. But I know you're all watching over this family and loving on us from above.