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 3rd 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 17th.
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 75th 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 75th
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.
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!
