Grandma's Death

As I've told you earlier, when I was four we moved to live with my grandma (Mom's mom) in a house that my mother bought for her. We moved there to make sure that she wouldn't live alone during her old age. Just like my mother, she still sold food at the traditional market until she could barely walk anymore.

My grandma had a bad temper. She fought with the fruit sellers or vegetable seller and she wouldn't mind yelling harsh words. She loved boys more than girls, so naturally she loved her sons and grandsons more than the daughters and the granddaughters. It's just a well-known fact. There were some precious moments, though, when my parents had barely enough money to cover our expenses and to buy our basic necessities, my grandma would buy a big bottle of Sprite every now and then and gave a cup to my brother and I. That small cup of Sprite was really such a HUGE treat for us, so we would sip it bit by bit (just like drinking wine) since every drop was SO precious for us. We would only get that treat from grandma!

Grandma had also some health problems. I don't know the English name, but the Indonesian name is "asam urat". Basically if she had too many nuts and some other specific kinds of food, then her leg muscles would be stiff and she would have problems walking. If it got worse, then one foot would get swollen and it would make it harder for her to walk. I must say that looking back, she was one VERY TOUGH lady. Even when she had trouble walking, she wouldn't give up walking around with the help of a stool that had the right size to be used as a four-legged cane. She kept on doing her activities with the help of this stool.

I was never really close to my grandma, so I didn't really feel the loss when she passed away. She got really sick for a whole month before God took her away, if I remember correctly. She stayed home and my parents decided to hire a nurse to help take care of her since my mother couldn't juggle work, kids, and taking care of grandma during the night. We had to change nurse a few times since they couldn't handle grandma's temper.

Remember that my mom sells food in the market, meaning she cooks all the food herself and she has to get up at around 3 or 4 am to warm up some of the food or cook them and then she goes to the market at around 5.30 or 6 am and she'll go back home at around 10-11 am. By then she has to prepare lunch already for the family. Busy, busy, busy.

Back to grandma...Before being bed-ridden, she fell down on the bathroom floor a few times, so in the end my Mom told her not to lock the bathroom door whenever she had to go there. Back then we didn't have a seating toilet, so only God knows how she managed to pee or poo by squatting down. Her arms must've been pretty strong to hoist herself up again with the help of the stool.

Anyway, I was around 16 years old during my grandma's last month. She became so frail as she got bed-ridden. We had to move her every now and then since it would hurt her if she stayed in one place for a long time. She peed and pooed in bed with the help of a potty. Her intestines couldn't digest her food anymore, though she could still eat. She also experienced prolapse of the uterus.

I watched her body shrink so fast during that month that it scared me. I could see her rib cage and pelvis CLEARLY through her skin. Her cheeks became so sunken and there was no more body fat, just skin covering the bones. It was...now I can't find the word to describe it. It was just discomforting and I think in a way I was shocked since she used to be a very strong woman who would yell out to other people. A strong woman who still sold food even though her memory had started to fail her, and she was reduced to THAT frail bed-ridden figure who was unable to distinguish what was real and what was unreal?

She had flashes of dead people surrounding her every now and then. She said she saw her dead sisters, but she didn't even realize that they were dead. She went in and out of "reality". She truly believed she saw them. Since she was a Catholic, so a Pastor came over to pray for her and to give her the last sacrament. A few other Christian colleagues and relatives visited her to pray with her. At first she refused to say, "Jesus, forgive all of my mistakes." She would stop right then and there and wouldn't follow the words of those people who tried to pray with her. She said to Mom that she saw a road, but the road was dark and she didn't know which way to go. She kept on saying this over and over and over again.

I don't remember anymore who finally managed to make her say those words, but at last she said those words, "Jesus, forgive all of my mistakes." And you know what? A day after that, she called my Mom and said, "Now the road's bright. I can see it clearly." And my Mom said to her, "Go on and follow the road. Don't worry about us. All your kids have gotten married and they're all well. So just go and don't worry about anything else." And true enough...not long after that, she took her last breath. I think it happened a few days afterwards.

I wasn't sad when she died. I felt that God had finally stopped her pains and given her the very comfort she needed most. I felt that she was freed from every suffering on earth. Upon reflecting all this, my Mom once said, "I never knew what a person experienced or saw during his or her last moments on earth. Now at least I know one version of it."

To my grandma, I'm glad now you're in a better place. :-)))) THANKS for having brought my Mom into this world. ;-D

P.S. Tomorrow I don't think I'll write due to the birthday party I mentioned in my earlier post, so see you later on Sunday or Monday! Have a BLESSED weekend, everybody, and stay healthy!!!! ;-D

3BT: August 22-23, 2007

1. Being spooked again by my hubby.

2. Pretending to sulk for exactly 5 seconds after being spooked. LOL!!!

3. Being squeezed A LONG time last night. He wouldn't let go. It's one of the BEST feelings in the whole wide world. *grin*

4. Teeth are WONDERFUL, esp. if you've got no problem with any one of them (going to the dentist can be SO expensive). You can chew food with them and best of all, I LOVE being nibbled!!!

5. Reading these words today:

He (God) knew the size of my pain, the color of my frustration, the fabric of my fears, and the fashion of my insecurities.

SUCH comforting words!!! ;-D

6. The anticipation brewing inside me as I'm about to buy ice-cream at the supermarket soon. YIIIPPPIIIIIIEEEEE!!!! There are SO many choices. I wonder which one I'll pick today. I'm drooling already. *tee hee*

7. The wind rustling the leaves.

8. Feeling the warmth of the sun on my back MMMMMMM...

9. Hubby running to the door to hug me tightly. He came home for lunch break while I was at the supermarket. Now I know how WONDERFUL it felt to be greeted like that. *HUGE grin*

10. A cluster of birds flying away as I was passing nearby. I LOVE Finnish nature!!! ;-D

Judge Me If You Think You're Holy

Ever wished someone dead? I did. Twice. It's not something I pride in, but I just want to share it here.

Let me tell you the first time I had that wish. When I was in elementary school, my parents had a joint venture with someone and then the business went worse. They stopped doing the business and then Dad found a job through one of his cousins. This cousin also knew that someone who was my parents' business partner. This cousin gossiped about my Dad to this person and thus this person got mad. This person accused my Dad of such-and-such and then hit his face. At first I didn't understand what had happened. All I knew was that my parents came home crying. It was the first time I had ever seen my Dad cry. After I found out what the problem was, I knew that Dad wasn't crying because of the physical pain, but because of the betrayal, being accused of something he wasn't. I got SO angry at that time so I wished the perpetrator dead. I didn't understand yet that there was a third person who made the perp angry.

The second time I wished someone dead was yesterday. I felt like a total bitch. If you'd read my earlier post entitled "Dad", you'd known that my Dad's changed lately. Yesterday I asked my brother via SMS whether my Dad was still yapping and snapping at my Mom. My brother said that that day he got angry and he snapped at my Mom and made Mom cry (again, for the umpteenth time!). Since I'd always been closer to Mom (sometimes I feel bad for Dad as it seems he can't connect with his kids better than Mom does), there was one second that I felt a HUGE surge of anger. Being a woman, it's so much easier for me to understand Mom's pains. Well, I also know for sure that my brother is on Mom's side, as well. I know it's UNFAIR for Dad, but in a way he makes it hard for us to be on his side (even though he may not be able to help it).

Well, I cried as well because I could just feel Mom's pains. She'd been SO supportive to Dad. I know she has her faults, too, but still she doesn't deserve to be treated that way. NOBODY deserves to be treated that way. Another problem was that Dad couldn't say sorry without raising his voice. He's an emotional man and he sees things black-and-white and I guess his ego also prevents him from saying sorry calmly. I don't get it when I hear this sentence, "Love means never having to say sorry." For me, the ability to say sorry sincerely and calmly is crucial.

Anyway, that second I snapped and I thought that it'd be better if God took away my Dad. Then a second later I felt SO guilty that I prayed to God to take away my anger and to forgive me for having such a morbid thought. The truth is, I know that my Mom'll be able to live happily still without my Dad, but I'm not too sure that my Dad can live happily without my Mom.

I think I've also felt weird these past week ever since I heard the news about my Dad's symptom of stroke. I feel somewhat "guilty" because my life here is going on well and I'm enjoying my time with my husband, whereas my family in Bandung's going through such turmoil and I can't help much except just to pray for them. I feel somewhat bad to my brother as I can't help much, whereas he and his girlfriend had helped me before and on our wedding back in Indo. I feel also "guilty" if I don't enjoy my happiness here as it's God's blessing to me. I also feel guilty because I can't be there for my Mom. How do you feel happy and guilty at the same time? How do you balance the two? Should I feel guilty only when I think of them and then enjoy my life here when I'm not thinking of them? It's a weird mixture of emotions. I just hope that things would be better between my parents. My Dad wasn't always like this. There were times when they could laugh at something together until they both almost peed in their pants. I LOVED those moments so much!

Sigh...I guess this is one of my random posts. I was just thinking today that everybody needs angels. Angels can be in the form of strangers or anybody. A touch/word of grace, a touch/word of love, a touch/word of understanding, someone who listens, someone who cares, someone who makes a difference in your life, someone who enlightens you, someone who shows interest in you, someone who thanks you, someone who pats you on the back, someone who believes in you. Angels...I'm SO GLAD God has put His angels everywhere on earth.