My Grandmothers

Another bittersweet lesson in my first year of recovery was going through the experience of everything that happened with my Grandmothers. My Grandma Bette (Maternal) had been suffering with Alzheimer's/dementia for quite some time. We watched helplessly over the years as she deteriorated. She was no longer capable of taking care of herself and her husband (not my grandfather) was a part of the problem and not the solution.

In 2009 my mom and uncle began being more proactive in getting help for them both. Social Services was going to send someone out each week to help them shop and clean. Meals on Wheels would be taking meals a few times a week. That didn't seem to work. Phil (my grandmas husband) was too proud to accept help and often times would turn the social worker away.

Eventually my mom would take guardianship of my grandmother. So we spent a lot of time traveling to Minnesota to take care of all of these affairs. The first time we went up I brought my hair stuff to give my Grandma Mary (Paternal) a perm and style. I think my mom purposely kept me away from my Grandma Bette's house because it was in such a state.

So I went to spend quality time with Gramda Mary and when my mom arrived at her house, she sat downat the dining room table and broke down in tears. She had never seen Grandma Bette, or her house in such a slump. She had lost at least 40 pounds, due to her forgetting to eat. The house was unkept, which wasn't like her at all. Bette always kept a beautiful home. She was dirty and hair was unkept, which wasn't her either. She always had hair done and makeup on.

Grandma Mary and I felt bad too. I'd never seen my mom that upset over the situation so I knew it was bad. The time was drawing near to find an opportunity to get her into a nursing home. Phil would put up a fuss, but he couldn't help her. She needed professional help.

The opportunity came a few weeks later. Grandma Bette was taken to the hospital because she was unresponsive. They believed she had a stroke. She was also severely dehydrated. So my mom and uncle made arrangements to go into a nursing home in Duluth. That way she'd be close to my uncle and his family. My aunts mom volunteered at the facility and had good things to say.

So my mom and I trekked up to Minnesota again. When we got to the hospital my grandma was in good spirits and a little disoriented. My mom dealt with Phil, the next day we picked up my grandmother after making sure we had everything she needed. The hospital had a bag of her belongings and the clothes were so soiled my mom and I threw them out. Her shoes also smelled terrible, so we decided to get her new ones when we got her to the nursing home.

So we got in the car and began our journey to Duluth. She didn't ask where we were going and did t seem to care. She was pretty happy. When we arrived we were greeted by staff and given the tour, shown to her room. It's actually a very nice place. Her room faced an atrium with fountains and fake plants.

We were surprised by her reaction to it all, she was happy and didn't ask where she was, why she was there, or if she could go home. My mom and I were upset. When we left we were in tears, but relived to know she would be looked after.

Over the next few months we visited regularly and she was taken care of. She put on weight, her hair looked good every time we saw her, she participated in all of the activities. I was happy she was cared for, but it's still a painful thing to watch. Someone you love is taken from their home. But it was my pain, not hers.

A few months later Phil was finally placed by his stepson into a facility a few miles a play from my grandma. She never asked about him, which considering her mindset wasn't odd. I think she lived in a time when her and my grandpa Tony were still married.

The time came to go and clean out her house. My mom, uncle, and myself did the most of it. I could understand why my mom wanted to keep me out of it. I was shocked and heartbroken to see her home in such disarray. We spent a little time there when we arrived. We went out to eat with my uncle to formulate a game plan for the following day.

My uncle and I spent the whole first day on the garage, screen house, and shed. My mom thought my dad was nuts for getting a 30 yard dumpster, but we packed that thing. After about 9 hours of busting our behinds we were all sitting outside on the steps chatting. My dad called, my grandma Mary had been ill and in the hospital. My mom and I had planned on seeing her that evening.

They thought her diverticulitis was acting up, but she was diagnosed with mesothelioma, and would be going to a nursing home on hospice. My mom hung up and told me, and I broke down. It was like what next?

So we finished the weekend of cleaning and went to go see my grandma Mary. She was totally with it, just not feeling super hot. We couldn't stay too long, so we were hoping to have some private time with her, but my cousin and his wife came stomping in. Mind you they lived nearby, we don't. So if you ask me that was beyond rude.

Here's the thing with my grandmothers. Grandma Mary knew I was an addict, and she supported me and was one of my biggest fans. Her mom was an alcoholic, so she had a soft spot for me. She always wrote to me while I was in treatment and I still have her letters in a scrapbook I made for her. My grandma Bette did not know. There was no point telling her, breaking her heart only to have her forget about it ten minutes later. Her only brother drank and smoked himself to death though. There's lots of addiction in my family.

Anyways, my mom and I returned home and the following weekend I drove my dad up to say goodbye to his mom. We brought her candy, Chapstick, and some other things. I drew her a shamrock that was sort of a family tree. It hangs in my shop now. We had the opportunity to see other relatives and spend some quality time with her.

On Sunday we went to say goodbye. I told my grandmother that I loved her with all of my heart and it was an honor and a blessing to have her in my life and as my grandmother. She told me she loved me too and gave me a big hug and kiss. My dad said his final goodbyes, and on our way out we bumped into the priest who was going to give her the last rites. He invited us all to join him and her, but grandma preferred the privacy, which was ok. I would've thoroughly lost it for sure.

When we returned home we told my brothers Bill and Joe time was short, so if they were going to go to move their asses. So they went the following weekend. On 9/06/09 she died. Four hours after my brothers returned. She must have been waiting to see them.

A piece of my life was gone and never would be recovered. She died just short of my 1 year anniversary. I buried her with my 9 month coin. We all took turns being pallbearers, there was 12 of us. She was a loved lady, very kind, and so much fun. I miss her all of the time. Every year I visit her grave and plant a key tag for her. She would be so tickled. And there's no doubt in my mind she's keeping an eye on me.

We continued to visit grandma Bette regularly, and she was always in a pleasant mood. We brought her candy and Coca Cola which she loved. Last year she had a stroke and became unresponsive. They were only giving her comfort measures and didn't expect her to last too long. Especially with no food or water.

I was working in Minoqua at the tattoo shop where I learned. My boss was already giving me a hard time about taking off the weekend for the Journey's marathon, and the. Decided to be an ass about me going with my mom to say my goodbyes to my grandma. I told him this was the last time I was going to see her alive and I was going whether he liked it or not. So my parents and I travelled up to Duluth. We stopped at the nursing home when we got into town and sat with her a while. We went to eat with my aunt, uncle, and cousins. Went back for a little bit before retiring for the night.

The next day we went back to sit with her. She never opened her eyes, and would move a little bit when we would grab her hand and talk to her. Dave was coming to pick me up and bring me back for the marathon, so when he arrived they all cleared out of her room. I held her hand and told her I was sorry that she had to live out her days the way she did. I told her she was an awesome grandmother, that I loved her dearly, and it was ok for her to go home. She squeezed my hand, so I knew she understood what I was saying to her. She died on 05/18/11

I went home and did the marathon and returned the following week to Minnesota to bury her next to my grandfather.

The bitter to all of this was the painful part of saying goodbye to the last of my grandparents and seeing how badly my grandma Bette had deteriorated. The sweet part was being clean for all of it. I worked through my grief and pain without something to kill it. I was also able and willing to be there for my parents. They were always there for me, so I needed to be there for them for once. People would ask me how I got "stuck" cleaning out the house. I was just being there for my family as they were for me when I could not be there for myself. I was happy to participate. I also was able to say goodbye to my grandmothers and express my love for them before they passed. I didn't run or hide from myself or my feelings. I turned around and faced them. I spoke at meetings about how I felt and openly cried as well.

Without my support system of NA, family and loving friends, I would not have made it through. I cried even while typing this and that's ok. I'm comfortable with my emotions.

RIP Mary Alice and Grandma Bette <3 you lots!