Krissie's Last Words...

My grandmother is the sweetest person I know.  I believe a lot of people say this about their own grandmothers, but they are wrong. My nana, Kathleen, affectionately known as Kay, would bake us cookies and serve them to us not only with milk but Hoodsie ice cream cups.  Not once did she say that I was too chubby as a pre-teen to partake in her goodies.  That earns her mega-bonus points right there.  This woman helped me learn how to bake to perfection (especially lemon bars)!  Who did I call when I had a cooking question?  Nana!  It's no surprise that when I was making dinner many times I would pick up the phone and give her a ring.

As I write this, Kay is about to pass.  Isn't that a horrendous expression?  Pass to where?  Pass the ball?  Pass over a bridge?  Stop!  We Americans, unlike Mexicans, are so afraid of death.  I celebrate Dia de los Muertos when I teach it to my students because it celebrates the life of the deceased.  Death is just part of the process.  But here we are, as my nana sits on the brink, using terms like, "expire" (like my license?!) and pass, and "move along" (kind of like the line at the deli).  Why not use the true term?  She is about to die.  And there is no shame in it, no remorse.  At ninety-three years old, my grandmother lived an amazing life.  She raised two wonderful children, and influenced six grandchildren, along with six great-grandchildren.  Kay was a devoted wife for years upon years to my grandfather who passed last October.

Breaths per minute.  Today in the hospital room we watched her chest rise and fall, and had our eyes fixated on her jugular vein to make sure she was still alive, that there was still some part of nana, mom, Kathleen, Kay with us.  But won't there always be?

I'm sitting at her dining room table right now as I write this.  I was lucky enough to inherit this furniture, in pristine condition, to brighten my kitchen.  I made the promise to Nana that I would always have fresh flowers on the table.  She would be a bit mortified that the crumbs stay a few hours longer on the table than was her habit, but it is still filling up with love during family dinners all the same.  Words passed between Kidlet A, Kidlet B, and I of our days at school and their adventures.  Kidlet B's dilemma of asking someone to the eighth grade semi, and Kidlet A's foray into the world of acting have been recent topics.

My last words to my Nana?

"Nana, James and Roark and I love you, and will always be with you, like you will be with us."

xoxo MausiGal

(photo of Nana and Krissie, Mothers' Day 2013)