Omojean Vivian Abromeit On November 7, 1997, my Grandma Jean died. I remember the night like it was last night. I got a call from my Aunt Terrie right after Midnight on the 7th. She said Grandma was having heart trouble and the ambulance was taking her to the hospital. She asked me to please keep trying to call my aunts Jeana and Kathy as she was leaving to follow the ambulance. She asked me to make the calls before I left my apartment in Couer d'Alene and drive the hour long trip to join my family at the hospital in Sandpoint. I did. I made the calls to Kathy and Jeana. After I reached them both and gave them the number to call the hospital directly I got into my little blue Geo Metro and left my apartment. The whole way to Sandpoint I prayed to God that he would save my Grandma. I pleaded with her to "stay strong" and I promised I would see her soon, as if she could hear me. I begged her not to die before I got there to say goodbye.
I arrived at the hospital and rushed inside. I searched the waiting room for my family. There was no one there. I asked the nurse where my family was? She scanned the waiting room and said that they must have all gone home. For the briefest of moments I was elated. They went home... it must mean Grandma was OK. The nurse looked at me sadly and said. " I'm Sorry, your Grandma has expired". I looked at her dumbfounded. "expired? What does that mean?" It suddenly hit my. My Grandma was gone. I started to cry and the nurse took my hand. She asked me if I wanted to see her. They took me past the desk and to a room with big double doors. Grandma was laying very unnaturally on a stretcher type bed. Her neck was straight and her head perfectly sitting even on her shoulders. That was highly unnatural from Grandma because bone spurs in her neck made it very painful for her to straighten her neck out, so she always had her head cocked to one side. I was disturbed by the way she was laying flat on her back. I wanted to cover her up with a thick warm quilt, give her a pillow and help her get comfortable. She had a tiny drop of blood on her lip. I touched her head and her cheek. I touched her hand. She was still warm. It was hard to believe that someone with such warmth in their body still... was gone. I hear my name behind me. It was my Uncle Allen. He had gotten all the way home from the hospital and remembered that I was still on my way. He came back to the hospital in hopes of catching me to tell me himself. I fell into his arms and sobbed. I know whatever he said was comforting but I honestly don't remember what the words were. I got calmed down enough that he thought I could drive. He put me into my car and he got into his. He went home and I went up to my Aunt Terrie's where my Mom and the rest of the family was waiting for me. I sobbed the whole drive there. I remember I was on Boyer street in front on the old Lincoln school and the Mill, I started just beating the steering wheel with my fist and screaming "I'm sorry I didn't get there to say good bye" and "why did you have to die?" I was so angry. ("expired"?!?!?! WTF? My Grandma is NOT a gallon of milk) And so scared. I could not at that moment imagine my life without her. She would never get to see me grow up, get married, have babies. I still needed her. I still need her.
Grandma was the most beautiful wonderful strong women I have ever loved. She was flawed and damaged and made her share of mistakes. She LOVED her children and her grandchildren fiercely. Her relationship with me taught me how to love and parent my children and to be in a strong marriage with Tim. She taught me how to assert myself, have a voice and be heard. She showed me love, unconditional love. My Grandparents were married for ever. I don't know how many year exactly, but more that 30, maybe more than 40, maybe even 50. And while they fought and bickered I saw real love that stood the test of time, poor health, misfortune, but also triumphs and joy. They had staying power. They had mutual respect and love. They grew old together and when he was gone, she wanted to go to. She was resourceful and practical. She taught me to save and use things wisely. But she also taught me that every once in a while a girl needs a nice new dress. She had a quick wit and a beautiful laugh. She loved to sing old country ballads and her favorite Christmas song was "the Drummer Boy". I can still hear her sing "pprrrrumpadum dum". She crotchet beautiful things and always had a project going. I loved her and I miss her terribly. But the best part of missing her is remembering her and kn owning she misses and loves me too.
Maybe this week would have hit me hard regardless of my fertility issues, but with them makes this week so difficult and bittersweet. See in 2003 and then in 2005 I discovered I was pregnant with Jasmyn and then Mason in this first week of November. I felt at those times that even though I missed Grandma terribly that she was sharing in my joy. She loved babies, and I know she would have loved my kids and been so excited to see me pregnant. So finding out I was pregnant during the same week as the anniversary of her death seemed to connect me to her in some way. Maybe just the circle of life. Or maybe because I feel such a motherly connection to her. None the less it was a special time. So this year is a bit different. I am remembering my Grandma on the 11th anniversary of her death and after more than 9 months of actively trying to conceive a child I am still not pregnant. I am just so very sad.
If she were able to hear me I would want to tell her: I miss you. I love you. Every time I eat popcorn, ice cream or drink a Pepsi I think of you. When I cook stroganoff, bake Oatmeal Cookies or make fudge I think of you. Every time I look at my ring that you gave to Tim for me I see your love and commitment to Grandpa and it makes me want to work harder at my marriage. I see you in my daughter's smile and oh how I wish she and my sons could have met you. I am so glad you got to met Tim and approve of him before you died. Thank you for crying with me when my Dad died. You were the only one who knew what to do for me. Above all else, thank you for loving me.
P.S. Oh and if you have any pull with St.Peter could you talk to him about sending a baby to us. Maybe you could help hand pick one for us? We would really love that.
I arrived at the hospital and rushed inside. I searched the waiting room for my family. There was no one there. I asked the nurse where my family was? She scanned the waiting room and said that they must have all gone home. For the briefest of moments I was elated. They went home... it must mean Grandma was OK. The nurse looked at me sadly and said. " I'm Sorry, your Grandma has expired". I looked at her dumbfounded. "expired? What does that mean?" It suddenly hit my. My Grandma was gone. I started to cry and the nurse took my hand. She asked me if I wanted to see her. They took me past the desk and to a room with big double doors. Grandma was laying very unnaturally on a stretcher type bed. Her neck was straight and her head perfectly sitting even on her shoulders. That was highly unnatural from Grandma because bone spurs in her neck made it very painful for her to straighten her neck out, so she always had her head cocked to one side. I was disturbed by the way she was laying flat on her back. I wanted to cover her up with a thick warm quilt, give her a pillow and help her get comfortable. She had a tiny drop of blood on her lip. I touched her head and her cheek. I touched her hand. She was still warm. It was hard to believe that someone with such warmth in their body still... was gone. I hear my name behind me. It was my Uncle Allen. He had gotten all the way home from the hospital and remembered that I was still on my way. He came back to the hospital in hopes of catching me to tell me himself. I fell into his arms and sobbed. I know whatever he said was comforting but I honestly don't remember what the words were. I got calmed down enough that he thought I could drive. He put me into my car and he got into his. He went home and I went up to my Aunt Terrie's where my Mom and the rest of the family was waiting for me. I sobbed the whole drive there. I remember I was on Boyer street in front on the old Lincoln school and the Mill, I started just beating the steering wheel with my fist and screaming "I'm sorry I didn't get there to say good bye" and "why did you have to die?" I was so angry. ("expired"?!?!?! WTF? My Grandma is NOT a gallon of milk) And so scared. I could not at that moment imagine my life without her. She would never get to see me grow up, get married, have babies. I still needed her. I still need her.
Grandma was the most beautiful wonderful strong women I have ever loved. She was flawed and damaged and made her share of mistakes. She LOVED her children and her grandchildren fiercely. Her relationship with me taught me how to love and parent my children and to be in a strong marriage with Tim. She taught me how to assert myself, have a voice and be heard. She showed me love, unconditional love. My Grandparents were married for ever. I don't know how many year exactly, but more that 30, maybe more than 40, maybe even 50. And while they fought and bickered I saw real love that stood the test of time, poor health, misfortune, but also triumphs and joy. They had staying power. They had mutual respect and love. They grew old together and when he was gone, she wanted to go to. She was resourceful and practical. She taught me to save and use things wisely. But she also taught me that every once in a while a girl needs a nice new dress. She had a quick wit and a beautiful laugh. She loved to sing old country ballads and her favorite Christmas song was "the Drummer Boy". I can still hear her sing "pprrrrumpadum dum". She crotchet beautiful things and always had a project going. I loved her and I miss her terribly. But the best part of missing her is remembering her and kn owning she misses and loves me too.
Maybe this week would have hit me hard regardless of my fertility issues, but with them makes this week so difficult and bittersweet. See in 2003 and then in 2005 I discovered I was pregnant with Jasmyn and then Mason in this first week of November. I felt at those times that even though I missed Grandma terribly that she was sharing in my joy. She loved babies, and I know she would have loved my kids and been so excited to see me pregnant. So finding out I was pregnant during the same week as the anniversary of her death seemed to connect me to her in some way. Maybe just the circle of life. Or maybe because I feel such a motherly connection to her. None the less it was a special time. So this year is a bit different. I am remembering my Grandma on the 11th anniversary of her death and after more than 9 months of actively trying to conceive a child I am still not pregnant. I am just so very sad.
If she were able to hear me I would want to tell her: I miss you. I love you. Every time I eat popcorn, ice cream or drink a Pepsi I think of you. When I cook stroganoff, bake Oatmeal Cookies or make fudge I think of you. Every time I look at my ring that you gave to Tim for me I see your love and commitment to Grandpa and it makes me want to work harder at my marriage. I see you in my daughter's smile and oh how I wish she and my sons could have met you. I am so glad you got to met Tim and approve of him before you died. Thank you for crying with me when my Dad died. You were the only one who knew what to do for me. Above all else, thank you for loving me.
P.S. Oh and if you have any pull with St.Peter could you talk to him about sending a baby to us. Maybe you could help hand pick one for us? We would really love that.
1 comment:
I know how ya feel it will be 5 yrs on Nov 27 that dad died. It is on Thanksgiving of all days so its hard around holidays. I am gonna try and send ya all the good vibes I can. Love ya all
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