This stinks.

What do you say when your words are gone? What do you think when your thoughts have disappeared? What do you do when there’s no where left to look? You look up to Jesus, cry out to Jesus, and pray to Jesus. For Jesus will be your Rock and Jesus will be your Peace. And Jesus will comfort you in ways no man could..

My grandmother has been battling a long and painful battle in her last stages of life. It’s been a bumpy and wild road for her and for my family while trying to figure out what steps to take next.

I woke up today with the news that Situ was back in the ER. She’s been in and out all this year, so I hurriedly got dressed thinking this was another random trip to the hospital, only to learn that she was dehydrated or had a treatable infection.

The boys were at her house today, cleaning it up and throwing things away, getting ready for the house to sell. Situ is going to permanently live in a nursing home because she is deterierating quickly. Her mind is mostly gone and she can no longer walk, think clearly, or live by herself. Seeing her this way is tearing me and my family apart. She’s always been a strong woman who is loving, kind, and has a huge heart to make you feel welcome in her presence. When she was younger, she was a great dancer, or so I’ve been told. All the boys were envious and wanted to dance with her.

Today, however, was different. I rushed to the ER with my mom and my littlest brother and walked down the eery hallways of the ER. We met my dad, who was already there, and I knew something wasn’t right. This trip to the ER was different already. We were in another section of the ER- a more serious one. People were crying in various rooms. This was no doctor’s office experience.

Walking into the semi-private room, I saw my grandmother hooked up to IVs and medicines. Her breathing was labored, she seemed to be having lots of trouble gaining enough oxygen to breathe correctly. She was so frail. Her eyes were closed. When I walked into the room, I spoke to her, but she didn’t wake up right away. It took her about 15 minutes to flutter her eyes open for a few seconds, see me, and smile a faint smile. Then she went back into her sleep. She could not speak, my dad said. She didn’t have enough strength.

This stinks, was my first thought. Seeing my grandmother on her death bed was not the way I wanted to last remember her. But here I was, fighting tears and wanting her to be okay. I began trying to push the pain and grief away, but it doesn’t work. I realized it will never work. Maybe for a moment, but the pain will come back. The hurt keeps coming and the tears will keep flowing. This is hard. Seeing Situ slowly pass away stinks. I just need a hug and to talk. but I must be strong…I must keep my exterior tough for everyone around me.

Tears help, but I can not cry forever. Pain stinks. Death stinks. Put these two together and you have a situation which will never become a good one. We’ll see how Situ does, but as of now, she’s on her way to meet her Savior and to dance with him forever. There will be no more pain or hardships for her. She will dance and never feel pain…

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2 thoughts on “This stinks.

  1. I have to admit, while I was reading this, I had tears in my eyes! Keri, I’ll be praying for you and your family!! Your Grandma sounds like such a sweet person, and I know you were close to her. But I’m glad that she will go to be with our Lord. I love how you phrased it: She will dance forever with Him. ❤

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