Grandpa

The following entry is highly personal - but it is my family's history.

Friday July 26th: 

Grandpa died last Monday night. His funeral was today. This is one of those times when I need to write about my emotions to deal with them, and put them to rest so I can let life go on.

Grandpa was diagnosed with prostate cancer a few years ago. We didn’t worry about it much initially because everyone told us it was one of the slowest forms of cancer. So we didn’t worry.

Early ast year the cancer had shown some signs of advance, so in the fall they decided to start Chemotherapy. Grandpa lost his hair and slowed down a little, but at Thanksgiving and Christmas he was still feisty and mobile and with it.  Since Gary had Dance Alliance starting in January, and had rehearsals almost every Saturday from January through August, we didn’t get down there much. The cancer spread to his bones over the spring so Grandpa decided to try radiation. Through all his treatment, he never complained about pain, which we were so glad of. He just said it made him tired and a little nauseated. I’ve heard bad things about cancer so that relieved us a little.  Still, he was terribly uncomfortable. And somewhat grumpy.

It was May before we suspected that Grandpa was seriously failing. Gary cancelled rehearsal that weekend and we loaded up the car to make the first of many trips down to Richfield this summer.

We were shocked at how uncomfortable and different Grandpa looked. His hair had started growing back a little but his legs were swollen with edema, bandaged half the time with bandages just to control the leaking fluid. I offered to give him foot rubs or pedicures (;-)) if it would help, but he didn’t seem to mind either way. So I’d rub them periodically but since it didn’t seem to help, I let it go and just cooked away instead, filling their freezer with apricot chicken, Swedish meatballs and potato soup. Anything that sounded good to him or Gram. I wasn’t a nurse like Mary Beth, so I couldn’t help out much with the medical stuff. I was no good at a visit to the doctor’s office, except maybe to offer emotional support. Ron and Mary Beth were amazing – they went with Grandpa every time he had a new consultation with a doctor or social worker.  She was a great advocate for them and I’m so grateful to the love and effort she and Ron put in to help Gram and Grandpa deal with each new phase of the situation.

So we started making the 7-hour drive to Richfield as often as we could. I’d cook, we’d play games with and do errands for Grandpa and entertain Grandma. We saw Monsters University with her at the cute little Richfield theaters, and just kept her cheery, distracted, and entertained. My kids were great at giving her loves and cuddles, which really boosts Gram’s spirits. They are very affectionate with her.

Every time we went down there we found projects or new things to do. Gary went out to Grandpa’s master workshop and helped the kids finish sanding and carving the staffs they had started at Christmas. He found the heavy green canvas and kept Gram busy sewing a big bag to transport the art he needed for his Dance Alliance Show. Gary built and drilled a 4-inch wooden platform to Grandpa’s easy chair, which was too low for him to get in and out of comfortably. (Yes, my man is handsome, thoughtful AND handy!) Maggie learned how to mow the lawn on Grandpa’s riding lawn mower to Gramp’s specifications, and begged to take out the garbage because it meant hauling it out to the dumpster on the end of their street on the four wheeler. She was finally trusted do drive the thing by herself – she’s growing up fast!

And, of course, the kids got their Gram waffles (with chocolate chips and lots of butter and syrup) and the customary three-hour daily dose of Spongebob every morning before Grandpa and I couldn’t stand it any longer and turned off the tv! Grandpa is no fonder of that brain-sucking cartoon than I am, but Gram’s house is the only place the kids get to watch it. Gram’s orders. So I tolerate but Grandpa and I would look at each other and just roll our eyes the whole time it was on. He prefers Glenn Beck and what Gram calls the Hitler Channel (the History Channel). Gram likes the animal shows and the fashion channels. Altogether there is way too much tv watching at Gram’s, but it’s just how they roll.

June came, and Grandpa got sicker. Evidently at his last appointment with the doctor back in May, he was told that the radiation hadn’t worked. The cancer was everywhere. They took it surprisingly well- Grandpa just said “I don’t want to hurt.” The doctors assured him that they could get him the meds he’d need to control the pain, so the morphine began in early July. He’d hobble around on his stiff, swollen legs with his walker, and spent more time in his easy chair in the front room. Eventually they brought in a hospital bed and hospice and home health nurses, whom he came to adore. Shawna and Chynna (pronounced “China”) started coming in three times a week to check on him, get him in and out of the shower, and monitor his meds. How we came to love those two wonderful women!!!

At the end of June, Gram’s doctor, who had been monitoring an infection on her diabetic feet, decided that he was out of cures and it was getting dangerous to leave the infected big toe on her left foot intact. So she had to have the toe amputated. Luckily she has lost most of the feeling in her foot long ago, so it didn’t hurt her much. But still, her toe was amputated. That’s a little traumatic. She’s been in a loose boot since. At that point, Mary Beth and I convinced her to allow the nurses to start coming in daily to help her and Boyd out. Thank heavens for Shawna and Chynna! They were indispensible to both of them during this crazy time.

Had a classic Mindy moment though down at Richfield about this time. We were shoe shopping as per tradition at the Gary’s Shoes sale in downtown Richfield. We always get Gram slippers for Christmas or whenever she needs a new pair, because she wears them so much. I saw some flip-flop slippers at Garys shoe store and exclaimed, “hey, we’ve never bought her slippers like this before! Nice and cool for the summer.” Maggie just looked at me and said, “mom, she doesn’t have a BIG TOE. How is she supposed to keep those on?” Yup. Classic Mindy Moment.

I took her to her follow-up appointment that week and helped her change her bandages. She was healing great, thank heavens.

 

That was the third to last time we went to Richfield. Luckily I had already thought to shop for Grandpa’s birthday presents – a new gray t-shirt, a “Best Grandpa Parking Only” metal sign, and a night lite that glowed different colors through the glass cube with “I Love You Dad” inscribed in the center. I was so glad that these gifts made him so happy; he said he had been wanting a night light, and we set it up on his chair-side table along with his clock, ipad and Kindle. We attached the sign on his hospital bed to give him a smile every time he had to get in and out, and decked him out in his new shirt. Then we kissed Gram and Grandpa goodbye July 3^rd and told them we’d be back for Grandpa’s birthday in two weeks. Grandpa tried to have the “last talk” with Gary, but we kept insisting we’d see him again soon. And we did.

Four days after our departure though, we got a call that Gram had broken her hip late one Sunday night. She was checking on Grandpa in the front room, but got her boot-covered foot (which she’d used since her toe amputation a week and a half before) caught on Grandpa’s oxygen tube, fell and landed hard and heavy on her knee, breaking the ball-joint right off the femur. Massive stress for the family – how to get her to the Cedar City hospital to do the hip surgery? How to take care of Boyd too? We didn’t hear about the final arrangements until after they’d been made – Mike, who had been visiting that weekend, would stay with Grandpa, who was still mobile enough to get to and from the bathroom, which was key. Gram would go to Cedar where Ron and MB could help her through her surgery. We were just starting a week of princess camp, clog camp, full-day festival rehearsals and the last week of BYUI classes. And we were 7 hours away. They left us where we were. But we called every day to see how everyone was doing. Mike spent an entire week taking care of Grandpa, and Ron and MB took Gram, who was recovering amazingly well from her surgery, back to Richfield and entrusted her to Shawna and Chynna. I asked her if she wanted us to come down, because with my crazy week over I was much more free, but she said she wanted a few days to rest and that she’d rather have us come down on Thursday when Gary could come with us, since his classes would be over.

Thursday July 17^th. Gary’s last day of giving finals at BYUI. The suitcases were already almost packed to go down to Richfield for a long weekend, and the kids and I were just eating lunch and doing the usual pre-trip cleaning of the house. Gary called and said his mom called to tell us to get down there right away. We dropped everything, called Brenda to bring Sophie home, Gary flew home from work, and we threw things in the car to get on our way, praying the whole time that we would get down there before anything happened.

Mercifully, we did. Grandpa had had a really bad morning, but rallied later that afternoon. In fact, when we pulled up to the house, we saw him sitting on a chair at the dinner table! Phew. So we grabbed our stuff and settled in to the house. I was so happy to see Grandpa up and aware that Gar and I just sat for an hour at the table with him and Gram, chatting and laughing and telling stories while trying to get Grandpa, who would doze off every few minutes, to finish his dinner. Then came one of my favorite moments of the weekend. Being a mom, I just sort of automatically began rubbing and patting Grandpa’s back. At one point he turned to me, looked me in the eye, and said “BURP.” Loudly. We all started laughing… and that’s how I knew Grandpa was still up and fighting!

We saw him decline so much that weekend though. Gary and I didn’t dare leave him alone, so I took the day shift and Gary spent the nights on the sofa in the front room. Good thing too, because those first two nights Grandpa would get restless and would try to get himself up off the bed, which wasn’t a possibility any more. Here’s another of my favorite stories from that weekend, though I wasn’t exactly there. Thursday night late, Grandpa decided that he wanted to get off his bed to his chair, where he also slept fairly well. He couldn’t support his own weight at all any more, so Gary got his arm around Grandpa’s back and was holding his hand with the other. So they were kind of in closed dance position. As they slowly shuffle-stepped over to the easy chair 3 or 4 feet away, Grandpa all of a sudden humming waltz music. Gary got a huge kick out of that.

The problem was, Gary had forgotten the “pee bag” from the catheter, which was still over attached to the hospital bed. G’ah! It had taken them at least five minutes to get the distance they had gone, and he didn’t feel like doing the tango back to the bed to get the bag. So he positioned Grandpa on the walker, kept his left hand on him, and reached back for the pee bag. Good times.

 

Showing Grandpa the sword Gary made with Spence out in the shop during their down time that weekend.

 Thursday and Friday he had great moments of lucidity and we had great times reminiscing and visiting. Shawna and China were superheros and there for us all the time, even when it meant running to Walmart to pick up an enema when Grandpa was blocked up. That was probably the low point of the weekend. Gramps had always been overparticular about his poops, evidently, and lost patience quicky when they weren’t regular or easy. He knew he had something, but Gary was out running an errand and Gram and I couldn’t carry his weight. So we called Shawna in, only she was off duty so her sub came instead. That wasn’t good for Grandpa as he liked his usual help. Well, she gave him the enema and he got it out, but then she left him on the toilet and gave me and Gary instructions on how to get him off it, cleaned up, and back to his wheelchair. Now Gary has his family’s weak stomach and I wasn’t really ready to wipe a grown man’s bum. But we got through it, and I learned some good things. I can handle wiping bums, no matter their size (and Gary can’t). It’s easier if you know that doing so helps the one you’re cleaning up. I can do it. I can also handle holding barf bags while Grandpa threw up. At least he didn’t have to do it alone – I was there.

Gary spent another night on the sofa Saturday night. The pooping incident seemed to have worn Grandpa out, though - after we got him all tidied down and comfortable again in his bed, he went to sleep. And didn’t wake up much after that.

He did linger though, and was able to wake up somewhat when certain guests arrived on Sunday, which was his 75^th birthday. And guests Grandpa certainly had! I was almost surprised at how many neighbors and friend stopped by on a regular basis, to check up on him and Gram. They have a wonderful support system down there and their ward is amazing. And family was in and out – either they suspected or Gram told them the end was near. Her brother Lynn Rowe and his wife Karen, Uncle Jim and his sons Steve and Scott, various neighbors and ward members. Sometimes Grampa would open his eyes and briefly acknowledge the visitors, as was the case with someone who had heard about his decline only the night before and had driven down first thing on Sunday morning to see Gramps before he died. Chris and Jody Nielsen came over with all 6 of their kids and sang to Grandpa Sunday afternoon. He couldn’t open his eyes but we’re pretty sure he was mouthing some of the words. He was still there.

He is so loved and valued, which was so comforting to see. One night as Gary and Gram and I were sitting around his chair and he was kind of crying that he hadn’t spent more time with the grandkids and that they’d probably forget him. From what I saw that weekend, and what I know lives in me and my family’s hearts, our Grandpa will not be forgotten. He has helped too many people, served too much, taught too many youth through scouts and church callings. He is too loved to be forgotten.

And it was his 75^th birthday that Sunday. All the family except Mike and Rob were there. We had a big family dinner and had lots of cake (cupcakes by me and a large store-bought masterpiece brought by Lynn) for the family and guests. Lots of dogs too- Steph and her boyfriend Butch brought three pitbulls (I was sooo nervous but they were okay), Gram had her three dogs, we had our Bella, and Ron and Mary Beth brought over Jacks. Dog city. I love it. And the occasional dog-wary guest tolerated it when they realized how friendly they all were. 

Everyone left that night except Gary and I and our kids. Which I thought was unusal- Grampa was so obviously close to the end. We couldn’t bear to leave him ourselves. But our Canada tour was supposed to start on Wednesday. Gary had finals he needed to pick up and grade, and we had to get the team ready to go. We decided that if there was no change in Grandpa’s condition, we’d leave Monday night and just drive late to get home to get the team ready to go on Wednesday.

Another favorite moment – watching Maggie grow up with this experience. Up until that Sunday night, she had been nervous about being in the room with Grandpa – just didn’t know what to do to help him. Sunday evening I invited her in and just had her talk to me while I sat and held Grandpa’s hand. Then I changed places with her and talked to her while she sat and held his hand. Then it was bedtime for the other two kids, and Mags said, “Mom, I got this. Go get them to bed.” So she spent the next three or so hours with Gramps, singing him songs, reading aloud, and just being there for him. She also took over the dosing of the morphine whenever he started fretting in his coma, getting it in the corner of his mouth and helping him lift his jaw so he could swallow it. I was astounded at her kindness, capability and love for him! One of those growth experiences to treasure.

So we left, VERY reluctantly, on Monday evening, having said our very tender goodbyes to our mostly unconscious Grandpa. I know he heard us though – after each farewell, he groaned in his sleep as if he wanted nothing more than to answer back. Broke my heart but I’m glad to know that I’m pretty sure he heard us. We left for our 7-hour drive not long before Chynna, his hospice nurse, was due to arrive so we knew Gram wouldn’t be alone long.  Mary Beth called about two hours after we had left Richfield and told us that Grandpa had passed – we were on our way to Spaghetti Factory to grab dinner en route to Idaho. We still went to Spaghetti Factory, and broke it to the kids as they were just getting out of the car to go in and eat.  They cried – we all did. But they had seen how sick he was and we were all relieved that he wasn’t suffering any longer!

I am still so sad, but I have no regrets. We spent some wonderful, quality time with our beloved Grandpa and were with him almost to the end. It was a relief when we first heard that he was gone, but then after that subsided it got really hard to realize that yes he was out of pain now, but we didn’t have Grandpa any more. Really sucks, actually. It’s hard to lose someone who has loved you like a daughter, practically unconditionally, and who had been such a supporter and sounding board for all our crazy adventures.

 His funeral was on Friday; we saw off the Dance Alliance team on Wednesday (also broke our hearts to miss the start of their big adventure) and made our arrangements to join Gary’s tour on Saturday up in Canada, then drove back down to Richfield on Thursday. I made up the programs, we wrote our talks, and the kids practiced their song “Families Can Be Together Forever.” We spent Thursday night there with the family (Mike, Ron and Mary Beth, Gram, Chris and Katee, Abbey, Ron Jr and Elaine and kids) at the viewing at the lovely Mortuary – took over a bunch of Grandpa’s signature “stuff” to display. The kids weren’t quite prepared to see Grandpa again, in his coffin this time, and all three immediately melted down upon entering the room. But it was a good opportunity for us to take them in our arms and remind them of the lovely plan of Salvation which tells us where Grandpa is, that he’s happy and whole, and that we’ll meet him there someday. After a while, Maggie “manned up” and took over caring for Gram (still hobbling after her hip surgery) at the coffin side, getting her drinks and holding her hand and just being there for her. Sophie and Spence were quiet until the end, eventually taking an interest in the free mints they had stationed all over the room and touring the other rooms of the tasteful building. Then we went home and spent the rest of the evening talking and reminiscing.

 Grandpa was a Scout!

 People drove from all over to come to the viewing and funeral.

 

 These are the tokens the kids put in Grandpa's coffin: Spencer made his first woodworking project, a boat, out in Grandpa's shop for him, and Sophie and Maggie made him sweet little notes.

 Friday morning, the day of his funeral, I hit such a low point. I woke up in dread of the funeral and viewing, grief and fatigue so strong that I knew I could never get through the morning. We did, of course – Maggie and Sophie both stayed right by Gram at the very crowded church viewing beforehand, and the grand- and great-grandkids got to help push the closed coffin in to the chapel for the services. 

 

Maggie and Sophie practically never left Gram's side

 The Nielsens saying goodbye to Grandpa- he had helped them a ton with building their new house.

Amazingly enough, all the speakers (Ron, Mary Beth, Gary and me) made  it through our talks very well, even Ron, an acknowledged weeper. Mike and Rob didn’t dare even try – they made a video tribute to Gramps beforehand and played that instead. There were two musical numbers – a lovely duet by a couple in the ward, and the kids singing “Families Can Be Together Forever.” Another very tender moment – Sophie went up to sing with the rest of the kids but after the first few notes started hiding behind Spencer and Maggie, who were singing manfully and confidently. But tender little Sophie – who loves to sing - totally lost it and couldn’t sing a note. She hid behind Spence until the song was over and then rushed immediately into her dad’s arms. He had to take her out for a minute because they were both crying. But they returned after just a moment and heard the rest of the funeral.

 The funeral was followed by the customary family lunch, and it was nice to relax a little and talk to all the family gathered there - we hardly ever see most of them. Had a particularly nice time reconnecting with uncle Lynne Rowe, especially after Sophie's little story about how Grandpa Rowe saved her, Spence and Gary from getting in a car accident by whispering in her ear to tell her dad to stop joking around and pay attention to the road. Kind of a special story for  us.

 

After the funeral lunch we picked up Bella and drove up to Spanish fork, for the burial. He was buried in the family plot, near the grave of his newborn son that died after a day. Rob was able to join us there, though his jerk of a parole officer wouldn't let him come 100 miles further south a few days before so he could see his father before he died.

 Lots of their Salt Lake friends came to the burial since it was closer. It was hot, but still a special time. Uncle Ned Coombs (who was in the Bishopric of my parents' ward when I was born and in my baby blessing circle) said the most beautiful dedicatory prayer! Then we chatted for a while longer before meeting with just the immediate family at Cafe Rio for an early dinner before all returning to our homes.

                                                       The four sons: Ron, Mike, Rob and Gary

Favorite Memories of Grandpa:

-Visiting the Fremont Indian museum

-watching Grandpa in his element out in his shop, carving wood, making furniture, or just fixing things that were broken.

-Going on four wheeler rides with Gramp and the kids to the pioneer cemetery just a mile or two from their house. Scotty and Kenzie the dogs would run by the sides of the four wheelers for a while, then we’d pull them up on to ride the rest of the way. Grandpa would point out all the oldest head stones and tell the kids stories.

-watching him teach Spence and the girls how to shoot a bb gun last fall. Spen of course loved it, Maggie proved fairly proficient, and even Sophie (my non-violent sweetheart) gave it a go. They will remember that forever!

-Gram teaching Mag to drive the four wheeler last year, and both of them turning over the garbage duty to our all-too-willing 12 year old girl

- He moved us every time, driving across country and putting up with all our crazy adventures!