Crying Crazy in Kansas

Let’s bring you all up to date, shall we? This last weekend was great. Friday we buried Grandma Rice in her plot right next to Grandpa Rice and his parents. Not to sound old, but the weather was lovely and sunny. We waited for everyone to show up at the cemetery’s lounge area and at first it wasn’t so bad with a few family members, but then a few friends (non-family) showed. For some reason, that’s when I realized we were there to bury my grandma and the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I spoke at the burial and so did most of the people there. The Price family rolled up to the plot in their 100 passenger van, we were there, Aunt Sue, and a few close family friends.
Saturday Chris and I went to Carmel Valley early to eat at the Baja Cantina, a restaurant we were regulars at with Grandma. After having a few hours to get ready in our room at the Carmel Valley Lodge (Very nice…) we headed over to Grandma’s church for her memorial. Each of Grandma’s five children spoke of her fondly. Aunt Louise had a lovely quote, something about how you might have treasure and gold, but my mother read to me. That was totally Grandma – she would even volunteer to read to school children when she could still drive and spoke well. Shortly afterwards we (well, at least I) drank our sorrows away and ate very well at Jefferies (a fabulous breakfast place in Carmel Valley). It was a great time to catch up friends and family.
At the Carmel Valley Lodge we were neighbors to Aunt Sue and got to have a good talk or talks while we stayed there. Sunday morning we stopped by the beach before heading home. We wanted some time to unwind before driving to Mom’s for dinner with the Price family. When we finally returned home that evening I made a to-do list for my day off (Veteran’s Day) and got to sleep feeling satisfied with my emotions about losing Grandma and feeling good about the time spent with family.
Monday morning I was on my way to the gym when my family called me to tell me about bad state Grandma Bates was in. The rest of the day I wondered if I should go out to Kansas to be with her in her last moments. Calling the home she was in didn’t help because they just said something like, “God only knows when He’ll take her home.” Maybe she thought I was being too practical as a Christian, but then I should have explained I was coming from California and wanted their best death estimate. I was mostly trying not to cry on the phone. After googling bereavement flights, I found a good flight going out Tuesday morning. Just before going to bed I talked to my dad who said Grandma was non-responsive and would not even know I was there, but I believed that she would sense someone in the room (It is said that hearing is one of the last senses to go). She still deserved to be surrounded by loved ones. Aunt Barb, my dad’s only sister, told me that the nurse said Grandma’s knees were molding, a sign that her body was shutting down. A friend of mine, Nikki, talked to be a bit online before I finally shut off my computer Monday night and said I should follow my heart to be with her in Kansas.
Tuesday morning I was getting ready for student teaching when Aunt Barb called telling me Grandma had died. I forgot about going to teach and started making plans to fly out to be with Grandpa. So I am here and didn’t hit any major bumps along the way. While I was waiting for a shuttle for the hotel Tuesday night, a van pulled up with a familiar-looking gentleman. I’m sure I had a huge smile on my face as I told the guy next to me, “There’s my dad!” and I excitedly ran-walked towards the van saying, “Hey, Dad!” When he got out I realized it was just a man that looked a lot like my dad and that he was driving a taxi. I haven’t seen my own Dad in a few years, which explains the mix up. The guy next to me, who looked like Tom Cruise and also hitching a ride to the hotel, thought it was the funniest thing he’s seen in a while. So funny, that he told the shuttle driver and hotel clerk about it. Were I kept saying, “That was a little silly.” And shrugging the mistake off.

Hoops and, now, a Sinkhole

Shoulda, woulda, coulda... I feel quite frustrated and sad at the moment because my sweet Grandma Rice has passed. She was everything a grandchild could have asked for in a grandparent. My Grandpa Rice died after a second massive stroke when I was 16 and that was sad, but I have always been closer to my grandmothers than my grandfathers. So losing Grandma Rice (or Boots was her preferred name) has torn my heart open. I feel numb and usually have tears at the corners of my eyes. So, even with buckets of grad school coursework sitting on my shoulders, I don't have the energy to think critically or think about perfect pedegogy. In fact, screw school at least for this time while I collect my thoughts, which have gone back and forth between seeing my dead grandmother and my immense collection of happy Grandma memories.

Let's deal with the bitter end. I was called when Grandma was literally in her last moment. She had been in assisted living for 18 months, which were not very happy times for her and I visited her pretty often. Mom called while I sat in the dentist's parking lot and I agreed to meet her at Grandma's. Through wet tears I drove to pick up Chris a ways away in San Mateo before meeting Mom at the Forum. We got there and I didn't think of what we might encounter; Grandma dying. We stepped in as the Chaplin called the time of death and there was Grandma laying in her bed by the window that faced out to the green hills and a bird feeder. Mom was crouching over her, putting a cell phone up to her ear as my aunt on the other end said her good-byes. I cried and cried and cried. I rubbed Mom's back and then stepped up to touch Grandma's face and hair. Words couldn't come out of my mouth, but I told her I loved her and that I would miss her and good-bye. The Chaplin said Grandma's Spirit was in transition as long as her heart was warm. I don't know if I believed that, but I did know that Grandma was dead in front of me. This was the end of a long and joyful book. Grandma was a sweet, sensitive, loving, tolerant, and fun-loving main-character.

After about twenty minutes Mom came back into the room from having been on her cellphone getting the word out to siblings and said, "Doesn't she look peaceful?" I replied under my breath as respectfully as I could, "Mom, she looks dead." I did not stay when the mortuary came to pick her up, but Mike, my brother did.

On the other hand life is ripping right along even with me in slow motion. There is always a text book to read, a lesson plan to prepare or an essay to write, but for now I don't want to do those things. I want to grieve. Stop the life/gradschool/real-world train because I need to get off. I don't know what I do want to do, but I don't want to preform at a grad school level right now. I'm not feeling competitive at the moment. I don't want to run this race. I need a break.

I will also leave you with some happy parts: Our search for Halloween Pumpkins, Chris's successful tomato harvest, and that I have jumped the enormous hoops and applied for

graduation. That was before now and I'm glad. I also had fun with my friend Becca while we prepared a whole bunch of food for Monday's snack.

But right now it's hard to get excited over much. 99.9% of my extended family are now planning to make the trip to the Bay Area for the burial and memorial. Well, I guess it is sad and happy at the same time. I feel like I'm in one of life's sinkholes. Stuck for the moment.