Moments
I looked at Grandma as she sat in the wheelchair, gazing downward, her hands in her lap, her silver hair going in every direction, having been awakened so abruptly. As the elevator engine tugged us upward to the seventh floor, I searched for something to say. I felt like screaming, but my mouth refused to open. Standing in silence, I wiped the tears that fell from her face, creased and furrowed from the sun so many years ago.
Weeks had passed since the ordeal began. It seemed like only moments ago, Mom was trying to convince me to go with her to check on Grandma. After working at the mall all day, I was less than enthused.
“Do you have any plans for tonight?” Mom said as she squirmed in her chair.
“Nope, just watching T.V., Got anything for supper, Mom?” I said. Wishing she would catch my change of subject as my way of indicating that I didn’t intend to vary my plans for the evening, and hoping that if there was supper, it did not include Jell-o salad. She always made Jell-o salad.
“Well,” she cleared her throat, “How would you like to go to visit your grandparents this evening?”
“Oh, mom, are you kidding me? Grafton? You cannot be serious.”
Just a few miles from my parents’ home, is Taylor County, WV, and the family farm. Having been there so many times, I could find my way in my sleep. The farm was a second home to me, and just like the house I grew up in, I could always find my way back. However, being the sophisticated college co-ed that I was, visiting grandparents was not big on my priority list. Still, I tried one last time.
“Why tonight?” I asked. “Could we go on a day when I’m off?”
“Grandma has not been well, and I had best go see for myself.”
“Okay, Mom, I’ll go, but can I grab a bite to eat first?”
“Sure, you can get yourself some supper. There’s leftover Jell-o salad and some soup in the fridge.”
“Great!” I said through clenched teeth. Grafton and Jell-o salad, what a day!
We arrive at the farm, acres of land lined with oak, poplar, sassafras, and birch. I pulled around the dusty, dirt driveway and stopped under a birch tree. The same birch tree that Mom pulled branches from for us to taste the bark. We would chew it like chewing gum and I wonder, as we pull up to the tree if it still tastes the same. But we needed to get inside to see how Grandma was doing. Good thing we did.
Grandma sat on the couch, which she always referred to as the davenport. Her silver hair ruffled, covered with a worn patchwork quilt. One I’m sure she made herself.
“She has trouble eating, nothing stays down, hasn’t for days,” said Papaw.
“Oh Johnny, it’s just the flu, some bug I’ve picked up,” Grandma said, as she got up from the couch. Her body wobbled and she managed a step forward.
“Where do you think you’re going, Mom?” Mom asked. “You need help.”
“I’m on my way to the bathroom, and I do not want company! I am fine,” said Grandma. Just then, her legs gave out, and she started for the floor. We all rushed to help her back to the couch.
“Dad,” Mom started with her voice shaking, “I think I’ll go ahead and take Mom to the med center tonight.”
“Okay, Bea.” Papaw said as he looked at Grandma.
Papaw wiped the sweat from her yellow skin, and put his arm around her. He stayed beside her, him, and his chewing tobacco.
Papaw never went anywhere without his Redman chewing tobacco. He made his own spittoons from milk cartons filled with sawdust, and kept one next to him like a companion. He, on the other hand appeared quite healthy. Despite his own recent bout with stomach ulcers, he looked great. He was in good health for his age and he could still get out on the farm to drive his tractor or pull up a Sassafras tree, shave the roots, and dry it for Grandma to use in making the best Sassafras tea in the world. An avid fisherman, he kept bait in the refrigerator in a cottage cheese container. Once, while Cousin Becky and I were there visiting, Grandma busied herself preparing Papaw’s lunch and we prepared ours.
“Hey Joycee, see if there’s any cottage cheese in the fridge.” Becky requested.
“Yep, here it is.” I said, giggling, as I handed her the container filled with worms!
After gathering a few of Grandma’s personal items, we all headed for the car. Papaw walked her by the arm every step of the way, when it came time for him to let go, he hesitated and looked into her eyes.
“I’ll be okay, Dad.” Grandma said.
“I know that kid, I’ll be okay too.” He said.
“Bea, you call, soon as you know.” He looked at Mom.
Mom hugged her father tight, “I will Daddy, I will.”
He hugged me too, he smelled of Old Spice; he always smelled of Old Spice. He stood there, waving until we were no longer in his sight.
Grandma was admitted that night, and Mom made plans to have Papaw meet her the next day at our house. She prepared his lunch and then drove him to visit Grandma at the medical center. That afternoon, they met with doctors who explained that a blockage in the gallbladder was causing the problem, and as soon as the symptoms were under control, they would operate. She was looking much better when I went to visit her the following night, even though, a pump ran from her nose, to this big jar, pulling something from her insides, not a pretty sight. She laughed and joked with all her visitors seeming happy.
Over the next few days, Mom and Papaw continued the routine of lunch at our house before going to see Grandma. Most of the time, this went on without incident, like I said, most of the time.
One day, my day off from work, of course, Mom called from the med center sounding a bit panicked.
“Joycee, please go to the family room and open the sliding door.”
“What?” I said.
“Just do it, go open the door.”
“Mom, I’m watching Days of our Lives, and…”
“Please.”
“Okay, just a minute.” I did as she asked.
“Mom, what am I doing?”
“Go out to the door, step into the yard, and look for Papaw’s teeth.”
“What did you just say?”
“After papaw ate lunch, he went to the family room and had a chew of tobacco, he spit out the sliding door, and…
“I get it Mom.”
“Now, he doesn’t know where his teeth are, and we need you to see if they might be out there. I’ll call back in a few minutes.”
With reluctance, but great love for my grandfather, I stepped out the back door. I scanned the grass, even though I couldn’t believe it. No teeth. I wasn’t sure how Mom and Papaw would manage this one, and I went back to watching Days of Our lives. About an hour later, Mom called back.
“We found Papaw’s teeth!”
“Great, where?”
Mom giggled, “In his mouth. He thought they were lost!”
Perfect, I thought, I fell for that one.
The June days blended together, hanging out at the house, and working at the mall. I had a routine that seemed to suit me well, and so did Mom and Papaw.
On another night, Mom woke me to say that Papaw was sick and she would be going to take him to the med center. She did not return until early the next morning the time of day she and her sisters referred to as the wee hours of the morning, Papaw had been admitted with bleeding ulcers.
“The doctor said that he is probably missing Mom and not so good at taking care of himself.” Mom said as she rubbed her eyes, which had to be burning like fire after being up for so long.
“So you think he’s okay?” I asked as I yawned and stretched, already on my way back to bed.
“Yeah, I think he’s okay, you know, Papaw isn’t used to being alone and preparing food, he needs to be careful with his diet. I’m sure that’s all it is.”
Convinced that both Grandma and Papaw were okay, I returned to bed, confident that in just a few days things would be back to normal. My grandparents would be home, Mom would not be at the hospital, and Grandma would be taking care of Papaw again. Wednesday June 19th was a beautiful, sunny day all across West Virginia. I got up earlier than usual, so I could get to the mall to pick up my check, and hang out with a few friends. Great plans, I thought, but Mom had other plans.
“Mom, I need your car, to hook up with Kim and Sherry at the mall. I have had this planned for a week!” I said.
“I need the car to go visit your grandparents today. You can come along with me. We will get your check later, I’ll take you to the mall,” she said.
Okay, for me, this was not working. I had no desire to go to the hospital, I hated it there, the place smelled funny, and it was boring. Besides, I had plans, today was my day, and I knew if I went to the hospital, it would be a bust.
“Mom, I don’t want to go to the hospital today, so I’ll take you and then you can catch a ride home with Aunt Kit later, when you’re ready to come home.”
“Joycee, this is difficult enough, and I need to leave soon to see what the doctors have to say. Now, come on are you going with me or not?” she said.
Notice how she turned that one? I knew she was right, but I did not want her to know I knew. I had been beaten. I was not happy about going to the hospital, not a bit. Arriving at the hospital, we found my grandparents in Papaw’s room, having breakfast. Grandma, her skin had starting to turn pink again, sat in a wheelchair, still hooked up to the pump, but able, with assistance to eat a little,. From the looks of the crud that pump was pulling from her insides, no wonder she was sick. It did not seem to bother them; they both smiled at each other and paid little attention to anything else. He cut her food and she helped him with his hospital gown, which he did not like because it opened in the back. The two of them remained in his room since he refused to venture into the hallway in a hospital gown. Visitors came and went, a few folks from Grafton, some from church, and then, my first chance at breaking free, my brother, Frank stopped by. He was taking a break from his job at the funeral home.
“Hey bro!” I said.
“Hi” he said. “Isn’t a little early for you to be up?” he laughed.
“No, I got up and came in with Mom. I’m going to meet friends at the mall.” I said.
“Yeah? How soon are you leaving?” He smiled, as if to say, this is going to cost you, little sister.
“Oh, anytime, as soon as Mom can go.” I said. “Unless, you could take mom home later, and then I can have her car and-”
“No can do, little Sis, I have to get back to work. I’m on all day today.”
“Okay.” I said.
Feeling defeated, I parked myself in a chair outside the room. Not long after, Grandma and Papaw took a stroll down the hallway. Grandma was on a break from the pump, and Aunt Kit stopped by with some of Papaw’s personal belongings, including pajamas. I watched my grandparents walk hand in hand up and down the hall, as doctors, nurses and the like passed them, they failed to notice anyone except each other. I can still see them.
“Well, hello, Miss Joycee!” Aunt Kit greeted me, pulling me from my trance.
Aunt Kit is one of my mother’s two sisters. Aunt Kit lived in Morgantown, a few miles from us, and Mom’s other sister, Aunt Gladys lived in Richwood, where my uncle Bob was the minister for the local Church of Christ. Aunt Kit was a little softer touch for me than Aunt Gladys, so I tried once again to access my freedom.
“Hi Aunt Kit. Good to see you.” I said as I gave her a squeeze.
“What are you into today?” she asked.
My mom and her sisters have telepathy. They don’t have to verbalize to know what’s going on with each other, they just know.
“Well, now that you’ve asked, I was on my way to meet my girlfriends and do some shopping. Hey, do you think you could give mom a lift home, and then I could get on my way?”
“Nice try, kid, but I need to stay here to see what the docs have to say about Grandma and Papaw.” Yep, powers in full force, or Mom had forewarned her.
“Okay.” I said in a soft voice as I walked back into Papaw’s room. It was lunchtime.
My grandparents always watched the noon news, and if you happened to be visiting them at noon, you watched the news too. Everyone had to be quiet so Papaw could hear. He became grouchy if any of us made noise while he was watching television. I never thought Grandma liked watching it, but since she acted as his ears, she didn’t have much choice but to watch it and pay attention in case he missed something. When he did, he would just look at Grandma and say,
“What say, kid?”
That meant she needed to repeat the last thing a person said for him. Funny how they did that I thought; and Grandma never seemed to mind. It was no different on this day. Except for the surroundings, I did not see a difference in their behavior at lunch. He cut her meat, she moved his drink so he would not knock it over, and all the while, the television was on as loud as the nurses would allow, so Papaw could hear it over the noise of the hospital. They seemed happy to be together, side-by-side doing their usual little things for each other.
Sometime after lunch, the doctors stopped by to speak to the family members. It seemed that Papaw was not so great at being a bachelor, and his doctor felt his trying to prepare some of his own food, and missing Grandma had brought about his condition. Cute, I thought, they had been together more than fifty years and it still wasn’t enough.
Grandma got a good report and would be scheduled for surgery sometime around the end of the week.
Once the meeting was over with the doctors, Mom agreed to take me to pick up my paycheck, but as for my time with Kim and Sherry, that would have to wait. I was sure they were long gone from the mall. No time for my life, I thought, only time for old people, hospitals, and doctors. I’d have my check, but my day with my buddies was ruined.
Later that same evening, Mom went to the hospital for visiting hours and I stayed home. When she came back, Aunt Gladys was with her, since she always stayed at our house when she came in from Richwood. Aunt Kit stopped by too, and the evening turned out to be rather fun. When Mom and her sisters hook up, they love to tell funny stories about when they were growing up. One story they tell is of a time when they all went fishing and Mom caught a chicken. It seems Mom laid her pole down after putting a worm on the hook. When she returned to her pole, a chicken was on the other end. The chicken swallowed the worm and was caught on Mom’s fishing line.
“I screamed and ran away from that chicken as fast as my legs would go!” Mom said.
“Oh Bea, thanks to you, we had chicken for supper!”
The sisters all giggled excessively every time they told that story or any other story for that matter. After a few stories, we were starting to prepare for bed when the phone rang. “Yes, this is she, I am she, excuse me; I’m not sure I understand. Are you telling me my Dad is dead?”
Those words pierced my heart like no other words had before. I stood in silence, trying to figure out what could possibly be going on, Mom begin to cry. I called for Aunt Gladys, and then realized she was standing right next to me.
“That can’t be right.” I said.
Aunt Gladys put her arms around me, and said, “It probably is.”
We both stood in the kitchen, waiting for Mom to get off the phone. After what seemed like a long time, she hung up.
“He’s gone,” Mom said. She began dialing the phone to reach my brother, Frank.
Still in disbelief, I began to get dressed to go to the hospital. I was sure there had been some kind of error and I wanted to be there when it was discovered. Besides, staying at home alone did not sound so appealing anymore. Mom and her sisters decided that they would go to the hospital and tell Grandma the news. They did not want strangers to tell her and of course, they wanted to be with her.
When we arrived, I waited downstairs for Frank to arrive. Mom wanted him to meet them, and I was the messenger. Mom and her sisters went to Grandma’s room.
A few minutes later, I stood talking with Frank about something trivial. The conversation was not important any way, I was just passing the time until some one, any one of these folks in white coats came by and said, “Oh we are so sorry, that was not your loved one that passed, but thanks for coming.” I was sure it had been a mistake, after all, I had just seen Papaw earlier that day, and he was fine, there’s just no way he could be dead or so I thought. While talking with Frank, Mom appeared with her sisters by her side, and Grandma in a wheelchair. As Mom expected, Grandma insisted on seeing for herself that Papaw was gone. We all waited.
I could not believe that was Grandma. My grandparents had been old folks my entire life, unlike my cousins and my brother, Frank, I never recall them looking any different, except for now. Grandma looked frail and helpless, elderly and I felt my legs grow weak. With my knees shaking, I walked toward her, thinking that this is starting to feel too real, bent down, and kissed her cheek. When I did, she squeezed my hand tight and said, “Hi Joycee.” I wondered how she could find the strength to grip my hand so tight. I wanted to respond, but began to feel as though I had marbles in my throat, somehow I choked, “Hey Grandma.”
I wondered what it must feel like, waiting to view your departed spouse. I decided that it must feel terrible. I could not even begin to imagine what could be playing in her head, but her head was fine, better than all the rest of us, it was her heart that was playing on that night. I felt so sad for her and for Mom and her sisters, it seemed cruel to be here for this when it was a mistake, but I also thought it would be good for everyone to be close when the error became uncovered.
Finally, an orderly came though the double doors. The man had little expression and must have been busy since he walked in a hurry over to my family, stopped and said, “Luzadder?”
“Yes,” Answered Mom as she released the brake on the wheelchair and pushed Grandma forward. The rest of the crew followed the aunts, Frank, but not me. I was frozen solid. My legs were numb and I stood back, watching everyone go through the double doors. Oh well, I thought they won’t be gone long, just enough time to see that the body is not someone we know and most certainly not Papaw. Yes, it would be best to stay here, anyway who wants to look at a dead person you don’t know, not me I thought, and I stood still. Waiting, focused on those double doors.
Minutes passed and the doors moved, the aunts came out first, followed by Grandma and then Mom. All were crying.
“Where’s Frank?” I asked.
“He’s busy.” said Mom.
It was real, it was him, and there was no longer the possibility that it had been a mistake. Papaw had died, and for the first time in my life, I felt emptiness, sadness, an ache somewhere inside and I felt sick. What‘s wrong with me I wondered, I could not remember feeling like this all at once ever before, it was grief and I did not like it.
Mom and her sisters began planning about calling this one and that one the next morning, and assigned me the task of taking Grandma back to her room while they decided who should stay with her. I was sure that it shouldn’t be me.
At last, the elevator rested on floor seven, and the doors opened. Neither of us had spoken on the elevator.
Once inside her room, Grandma attempted to get back into bed. Still shaken by the events, she was unable to lift her tired body out of the wheelchair.
“Oh my!” she said, as she fell back into the chair.
“Its okay, Grandma, I can help you.” I said as I circled her with both arms and pulled her from the chair. Once free of the chair, I guided her to the bed, and pulled the sheet across her body.
“I feel so cold,” she said. “I touched Papaw, downstairs, and he was so cold. Guess that’s why I am freezing.”
“I’ll ask the nurse for more blankets, Grandma, you shouldn’t be cold.” I said. I piled another blanket onto the bed, and pulled it up tight around Grandma. Her eyes began to close, and I stroked her beautiful, silver hair. I couldn’t remember it, but I was sure she had put me to bed many times, and maybe even stroked my hair until I drifted off to sleep.
Then I realized, there in the hospital room, that these people had always been sure to include me. My grandparents opened their home anytime I wanted to go, and the aunts never tired of sharing their treasure of childhood stories and taught us about birch bark and sassafras tea. These things made us a family; more than the biological connection, the real connections were the events and memories we shared. Now, it was my turn to give back, I thought as watched Grandma fall asleep.
Morning brought another spectacular June day, but the first day without Papaw. We would have many to come. Today was for arrangements, and there were plenty to make.
From clothing, to flowers, to out of town family and friends, and even food, every detail needed to be addressed. Not the least of which was Grandma’s health. As it turned out, she would be discharged for a week to attend the funeral, business matters, and then return to the med center for surgery. That afternoon, we took her home, to the farm.
It seemed a little longer trip this time, and once again, I was behind the wheel. The road still turned and twisted like always, and the oaks stood strong and tall, but there was something different everywhere. Attention I once focused inward was now focused on others. I listened, as Mom and the aunts discussed the funeral.
“Yellow roses,” said Aunt Kit. “Daddy always liked yellow roses.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said, and looked at Aunt Kit in the rear view mirror.
“You know the suit, right Bea?” Aunt Gladys said to Mom.
“I do,” said Grandma, “He told me the one, and Frank has everything else. Papaw made all the arrangements long ago, with Frank, he knows what to do.” I didn’t know that either, I thought.
Unlike before, I noticed the details of the events and people around me. I pulled the car up the drive and parked under the birch tree, but this time, I smiled at Mom, and she gave me a wink.
Grandma turned on lights as we entered the house, everything was just as she had left it and yet, nothing was the same.
The funeral was standard fair as far as I knew, it was like any other, but then, I had never attended one before, so I had limited knowledge with that sort of thing. Before we left the funeral home for the cemetery, I watched as my brother placed a pouch of Redman chewing tobacco in Papaw’s suit jacket pocket.
“He never went anywhere without it.” Frank said, as he smoothed the suit jacket back over Papaw’s chest and gave him a pat.
“That’s true,” I said and I smiled thinking about looking for his teeth that day.
I had a new reality, and focused my energy on observing it all. I watched as Grandma and her children each kissed their husband and father for the last time, and walked away. The scene was peaceful, sad, and real.
Like my cousins, I said my good-byes too, and then hugged Grandma as tight as I could.
“I’m so sorry, Grandma. We will all miss him. I know you will miss him the most.”
Grandma squeezed my sobbing body, and said, “He loved us, he loved us all. I will miss him, I will always miss him, but we said it all long ago. We were blessed, we had the chance to say things we meant and still had one more day just to be together. No one could ask for more than that.”
We said good-bye that day to Papaw, someone I knew my whole life, and enjoy reminiscing about. When I recall my grandparents, my mind goes to the time I spent with them at the hospital, on their final day together. I was glad, I had stopped my own life for just a few hours and witnessed real love in action. I learned to notice the moments we live instead of the things we want, I realized how fleeting they are. For fifty-nine years, Grandma and Papaw went to sleep together, woke together, raised a family, and managed a farm, all together, for fifty-nine years, and it wasn’t enough. Real love could always use just a few more moments.
Author's Note
This was the first story I wrote about six years ago. My writing style has evolved since then, but I wanted to include it on the site in memory of my grandparents, John and Nora Luzadder.
