Yesterday our family went to a pie festival at a farm museum near our new house. It was a fun day, and we'll likely be back to the museum in the future.
I got home and checked facebook, seeing that my mom had just posted that my grandmother was taken to the hospital with a brain bleed. My comment on her post was "Ack!" Too many other things ran through my head so quickly that I couldn't really post anything else. Then I think my brain shorted out a bit and just went into numb shock.
The idea of anything being seriously wrong with Mamu (my Grandmother) just doesn't compute.
The idea that she might not be around anymore just doesn't compute.
The updates I've gotten so far are that she was taken to the hospital yesterday morning after having a stroke. She has been resting comfortably in the ICU, and the doctors were discussing whether they would be able to do surgery that just went in through one of the blood vessels, or if they would have to do open cranium surgery. I know that her surgery is scheduled for this morning, but still don't know how bad the stroke was, the prognosis for recovery, or anything else.
I was sitting on the couch this morning checking facebook, saw the post saying surgery was scheduled, and started talking to Phil about the fact that is Mamu doesn't pull through, I hope my mom will still be able to come for Christmas...and then I started crying. The shock finally wore off, or at least thinned enough to feel again. I'm glad Phil is here...but he's going home in a couple days.
I've been thinking about Mamu a lot this year. She was born the same day as the Queen of England, and her mother was pen-pals with the queen's nanny. Living in England the last four years, any time I saw the queen, I saw Mamu. This year was the queen's diamond jubilee, so there was a lot of merchandise...commemerative plates, teacups, etc. ... and every time I saw them, I thought of Mamu, and smiled.
Mamu has always been one of the strongest women I knew. When I was little (I couldn't have been more than about 3) my parents helped her move from Santa Barbara up into the mountains. Mamu had retired from the hospital she had worked at for 20 years and was taking a job as a camp nurse at an Outdoor School ("6th grade camp") in the mountains. We moved into the house in Santa Barbara that she had moved out of, and I remember visiting her in the mountains often. Even now, there are smells in the woods that remind me specifically of visiting Mamu at Forest Home.
For years, she worked at the outdoor school during the school year, then at the Christian Camp run on the same site during the summer. Some years, she worked at a different camp during the summer, and we'd drive from Santa Barbara up to Forest Home and move all her things from Forest Home to a camp on a different mountain in June, then back from the other camp (I'm drawing a blank on the camp name now..."All Nations" maybe?) to Forest Home again in the Fall.
I remember that while she was still working at Forest Home during the summers, there was an "Indian Village" section of the camp, where she was given the name "Oaktasha" (I haven't got a clue how to spell it, but that's how it sounds in my head), which means "Princess Snowflake".
One of the parts of Mamu's contract with whatever camp she worked at was that her grandchildren were allowed to come to the camp for free. One summer, Mamu drove me home after a week at camp and I asked my mom where my dad was. That's when I found out my parents were getting a divorce. I was glad that Mamu was there. She hugged me and talked to me about it. Thinking about it now, I'm glad Mamu was there for Mom. There are times we need our moms, even as grown-ups, and I think that was one of them.
Mamu has always been one of the kindest, most caring people I know. However, she's where I learned the phrase "no sympathy for stupidity". If someone did something dumb and hurt themselves, she'd patch them up...but make sure they knew it was dumb, and their own fault.
She learned to ski in Germany, visiting her oldest son who was stationed there. She was in her 50's. I learned to ski in my 20's, and my body doesn't respond the same way or learn things as easily in my 30's...and I've been to Germany's mountains. Learning to ski there at that age impresses me more than I can say.
When I was in high school, my mom, brothers and I were stuck in Texas without a house to live in. (That's a long story for another time.) Mom called Mamu, and was told that Mamu had a house available that we could use in Kansas, and was buying one in Spokane, Washington. Mom picked Spokane, and we started driving. I don't remember if Mamu was with us for the drive (I don't think she was...my uncle Karl and his family were...but again, that's a story for another time) but she met us in Spokane. I wasn't in the Realtor's office with them when the Realtor said we wouldn't be able to move into the house for 6 weeks...but I've heard stories about it, and Mamu basically told the realtor that we were either moving into the house she had already picked that day, or she was walking across the street to a different realtor's office and paying cash for the first house he showed her. We moved into the original house an hour later.
She has always been the sweetest lady in the world...and a heck of a force to be reckoned with if you pissed her off.
She retired from the outdoor school years ago, taking most of the last year off as the sick leave that she hadn't taken for 20 years, and having parts of her body rebuilt (shoulders? knees? eyes? It's the bionic Grandma!)
For the last few years, she's still been working...or working again...this time doing "Elder Care". She's in her 80's...and she's been taking care of a man who's only one year older than she is. That's still impressive to me. The impression I've gotten is that his condition and functionality have improved under her care, because she makes him do things for himself instead of automatically doing things for him. It seems to have been a good arrangement for both of them.
Mamu has always been invincible in my mind. The fact that she's not hits hard.
The timing really sucks, too. This is the one time that there's no way I can get there. If she doesn't make it through the surgery, I can't be there for or with Mom. I know Mom has friends that would be there for her, but I still want to be able to be there if she needs me. Honestly, that's my biggest..."concern" isn't the right word, but it's the best I can come up with.
It feels wrong to contemplate what to do, or what I would do, if Mamu dies. It feels like if I consider it, then it can happen...but if I deny the possibility, she's safe. The thing is, I did that a year and a half ago with Ruth, my mother in law, and she didn't pull through. For her, it was time. For Mamu...I just hope it's not.
Still, though...I don't know what damage the stroke did. I don't want her stuck in a broken body or broken mind. If it's time, it's time, but the world would lose something great.
I got home and checked facebook, seeing that my mom had just posted that my grandmother was taken to the hospital with a brain bleed. My comment on her post was "Ack!" Too many other things ran through my head so quickly that I couldn't really post anything else. Then I think my brain shorted out a bit and just went into numb shock.
The idea of anything being seriously wrong with Mamu (my Grandmother) just doesn't compute.
The idea that she might not be around anymore just doesn't compute.
The updates I've gotten so far are that she was taken to the hospital yesterday morning after having a stroke. She has been resting comfortably in the ICU, and the doctors were discussing whether they would be able to do surgery that just went in through one of the blood vessels, or if they would have to do open cranium surgery. I know that her surgery is scheduled for this morning, but still don't know how bad the stroke was, the prognosis for recovery, or anything else.
I was sitting on the couch this morning checking facebook, saw the post saying surgery was scheduled, and started talking to Phil about the fact that is Mamu doesn't pull through, I hope my mom will still be able to come for Christmas...and then I started crying. The shock finally wore off, or at least thinned enough to feel again. I'm glad Phil is here...but he's going home in a couple days.
I've been thinking about Mamu a lot this year. She was born the same day as the Queen of England, and her mother was pen-pals with the queen's nanny. Living in England the last four years, any time I saw the queen, I saw Mamu. This year was the queen's diamond jubilee, so there was a lot of merchandise...commemerative plates, teacups, etc. ... and every time I saw them, I thought of Mamu, and smiled.
Mamu has always been one of the strongest women I knew. When I was little (I couldn't have been more than about 3) my parents helped her move from Santa Barbara up into the mountains. Mamu had retired from the hospital she had worked at for 20 years and was taking a job as a camp nurse at an Outdoor School ("6th grade camp") in the mountains. We moved into the house in Santa Barbara that she had moved out of, and I remember visiting her in the mountains often. Even now, there are smells in the woods that remind me specifically of visiting Mamu at Forest Home.
For years, she worked at the outdoor school during the school year, then at the Christian Camp run on the same site during the summer. Some years, she worked at a different camp during the summer, and we'd drive from Santa Barbara up to Forest Home and move all her things from Forest Home to a camp on a different mountain in June, then back from the other camp (I'm drawing a blank on the camp name now..."All Nations" maybe?) to Forest Home again in the Fall.
I remember that while she was still working at Forest Home during the summers, there was an "Indian Village" section of the camp, where she was given the name "Oaktasha" (I haven't got a clue how to spell it, but that's how it sounds in my head), which means "Princess Snowflake".
One of the parts of Mamu's contract with whatever camp she worked at was that her grandchildren were allowed to come to the camp for free. One summer, Mamu drove me home after a week at camp and I asked my mom where my dad was. That's when I found out my parents were getting a divorce. I was glad that Mamu was there. She hugged me and talked to me about it. Thinking about it now, I'm glad Mamu was there for Mom. There are times we need our moms, even as grown-ups, and I think that was one of them.
Mamu has always been one of the kindest, most caring people I know. However, she's where I learned the phrase "no sympathy for stupidity". If someone did something dumb and hurt themselves, she'd patch them up...but make sure they knew it was dumb, and their own fault.
She learned to ski in Germany, visiting her oldest son who was stationed there. She was in her 50's. I learned to ski in my 20's, and my body doesn't respond the same way or learn things as easily in my 30's...and I've been to Germany's mountains. Learning to ski there at that age impresses me more than I can say.
When I was in high school, my mom, brothers and I were stuck in Texas without a house to live in. (That's a long story for another time.) Mom called Mamu, and was told that Mamu had a house available that we could use in Kansas, and was buying one in Spokane, Washington. Mom picked Spokane, and we started driving. I don't remember if Mamu was with us for the drive (I don't think she was...my uncle Karl and his family were...but again, that's a story for another time) but she met us in Spokane. I wasn't in the Realtor's office with them when the Realtor said we wouldn't be able to move into the house for 6 weeks...but I've heard stories about it, and Mamu basically told the realtor that we were either moving into the house she had already picked that day, or she was walking across the street to a different realtor's office and paying cash for the first house he showed her. We moved into the original house an hour later.
She has always been the sweetest lady in the world...and a heck of a force to be reckoned with if you pissed her off.
She retired from the outdoor school years ago, taking most of the last year off as the sick leave that she hadn't taken for 20 years, and having parts of her body rebuilt (shoulders? knees? eyes? It's the bionic Grandma!)
For the last few years, she's still been working...or working again...this time doing "Elder Care". She's in her 80's...and she's been taking care of a man who's only one year older than she is. That's still impressive to me. The impression I've gotten is that his condition and functionality have improved under her care, because she makes him do things for himself instead of automatically doing things for him. It seems to have been a good arrangement for both of them.
Mamu has always been invincible in my mind. The fact that she's not hits hard.
The timing really sucks, too. This is the one time that there's no way I can get there. If she doesn't make it through the surgery, I can't be there for or with Mom. I know Mom has friends that would be there for her, but I still want to be able to be there if she needs me. Honestly, that's my biggest..."concern" isn't the right word, but it's the best I can come up with.
It feels wrong to contemplate what to do, or what I would do, if Mamu dies. It feels like if I consider it, then it can happen...but if I deny the possibility, she's safe. The thing is, I did that a year and a half ago with Ruth, my mother in law, and she didn't pull through. For her, it was time. For Mamu...I just hope it's not.
Still, though...I don't know what damage the stroke did. I don't want her stuck in a broken body or broken mind. If it's time, it's time, but the world would lose something great.
She sounds like an amazing lady. My great-grandmother was of similar ilk: Decided around age 15 that she no longer wanted to work on the farm in North Dakota, and simply left, catching the next train to Wisconsin. An older brother or two was sent after her to bring her home; she stayed, and they did too. She outlived three husbands and a boyfriend. Her name, Rose, is Gwen's middle name, and though Gwen will never meet Grandma Rose, I look forward to telling her stories about her.
ReplyDeleteOh, Teresa, the stories I could tell of Mamu and how much she meant to so many people. I also think of her as invinsible and have tried to pattern my energy around how hers is. I have had two women in my life who have inspired me the most, my Aunt Lou and Mamu (PS I have been calling her that since I first met her when I was 13. I now Angels watch over her
ReplyDelete