At this point in the story, I really don’t have details. Just stories I’ve been told. Mom and I called each other over the next few hours to check in. The last thing they removed from Grandma was the ventilator about 4 Monday morning and she hung in there. See? Stubborn. I called Mom around 10 and she was still with us — still fighting. Then I got a call around 2 or 2:30. I looked at the caller ID and when I saw it was Mom, I knew it was to finally tell me that she had died. Mom was holding up like a trouper even while breaking into occasionally sobs. I’ve been told that losing a parent is hard, but I would argue it’s just as hard to hear your parent mourning the loss of their parent. It was almost as bad as hearing my mom cry out in anguish when Grandpa died in ‘85.

Mom told me that at the end, Grandma opened her eyes and kept staring at the ceiling as if she was seeing something they couldn’t. She finally told Grandma that Grandpa was there to get her and that it was time to go. Mom told me that Grandma took three deep breathes (she then acted those breathes out over the phone which put my heart through the shredder) and then she slipped away placidly. Mom and I talked later and agreed that it was better this way. Stomach cancer is one of most painful of the disease and Grandma hadn’t even begun to feel the worst of it.

That night some of the family went out to dinner when Mom spotted the ICU doctor from Saturday night out with his kids. I heard from Kevin that Mom told him that Grandma had passed away and how grateful the family was for his help and compassion. He soon left with his kids. Later, they found out why. He had payed for the entire family’s meal and left without saying a thing. Kevin said he was shocked to find someone so generous. I told him that they are out there, you just have to dig them out from under all the garbage.

The rest of the week was filled with phone calls to people making sure they were getting by and hearing the plans for Grandma’s service. It sounded like it was a variety show, which doesn’t surprise me. Donnie and Marie had one for three years so it’s just in the Mormon blood. (Thank you, I’ll be here all night!) The children were going to tell stories. The grandchildren were going to sing. Kevin was going to play piano. I’m sure the service lasted for a couple of hours.

The funny thing was the flowers Grandma received. They were coming in from all over. So many in fact, that she was moved into the biggest room in the church just to accommodate her arrangements. It was so bad that Mom said she could only go in for a few minutes before her hay fever kicked her out. Oh, and there was a bird that got into Grandma’s house and attacked Mom who claimed it was Grandma telling her to get the house cleaned up before guests started to come over.

Kevin lamented to me at one point that he wished I was there for the service. I wish I could have been there, too, to lend support. He said he was really nervous about playing. I told him that I’d be there in spirit and, if it helped, to imagine me on the piano in a fabulous red dress a la Michelle Pfeiffer in The Fabulous Baker Boys. He told me that he told my cousin, Stacy, this right before he started to play (she was turning pages for him), but they did as promised: they held back their laughter for the sanctity of the service.

I did get a keepsake. I’m not one to take things, but I figured it was something no one would miss. The night Grandma went into the hospital I made some toast and cereal for dinner and, while I was trying to stay out of the way of my Aunts, Uncle and Mom, I found the bread twisty tie that I had taken off the loaf and put aside. I wrapped it around my pinky finger and wore it until I got home. It’s now sitting on my desk surrounding the remembrance stone I got from Miss Lily’s ceremony. Both of these are sitting next to the stone I grabbed from Matt & Leslie’s wedding on Leap Day. All of which reminds me that I don’t need material things to remember those I love. Just little tokens. Even a wire wrapped in paper can remind me of the love that is taught and passed down through generations.

P.S. I am getting Grandma’s toaster because I told her it was so cool.

Listening to: “This Is Love” - George Harrison