Here is the End of my letter to Gram. If you missed it, start from the beginning with Letter to Gram then Part II Change, and Part III Frustration. We felt we couldn’t take good care of Gram anymore so we made the difficult decision of putting her in a memory care unit.
Dear Gram,
They told us not to come back for two weeks. I am not sure that was the best thing for you but we followed directions. When I came back you were very upset with me for putting you into the home. It was the only time in my life where I have seen you that upset and that mean. You were so upset. It was a sight I never wanted to see again. Of course, it made me doubt everything we were doing.
I didn’t want to put you into a home. I wanted to keep you with us. I wanted to keep taking you on new adventures, and I wanted you to live to be 100 years old! I thought if anyone could make it, you could.
You were in the home for about three months. Sometimes you seemed really happy there and others you were sad and wanted to come home. They told us they usually had a lot of activities with music and socializing but because of Covid-19 they couldn’t do it. I don’t know if these activities would have helped you. I don’t know if you would have participated or not. You only told us that everyone in there was old and all they did was sleep! Pretty funny coming from a 96-year-old who enjoyed napping as well. But you were used to being with people half your age so I understood where you were coming from.
In January, Jeff and I went skiing. Within our travels, we ended up getting Covid. We didn’t want to spread it through the senior living center so it was another 10 days before I could see you. I came back the day you got your second Covid vaccine. You took it like a champ, and we spent a few hours enjoying the sunshine on the back patio. I shared pictures of our ski trip and you told me how much you missed the snow. Then you told me to go home.
That evening we were out to eat when we got another dreaded phone call. You had fallen and hit your head. We raced to the hospital to be with you. Because of Covid, I was the only one allowed to go back into the room with you. I was seriously disappointed in the senior living center. They called me and said they were taking you to the ER. When I got there no one was with you. They just handed the ER nurse some paperwork and let you go. You had dementia. Yes, you would know your name and your date of birth but you couldn’t tell them what happened. You didn’t know. You barely remembered that you fell when I got there. I am so grateful that I was in town so that I could come to be with you. It astonishes me the way these facilities treat people and just send them to the hospital alone.
You were so scared and blood was all in your hair. After several x-rays and scans, the doctor told me your head was alright but you broke your right hip again. And since you already had it replaced once there was nothing they could do but give you pain meds and send you back home.
I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to take you home so bad and I think that is part of my regret and guilt. I think that is why I am having such a hard time letting you go. I knew the only chance of you getting better was if I took you home and nursed you back to health. And I was so torn. Did you want to stay on Earth with us? Or were you tired of getting drug around from place to place? I was scared also that I would be back to 24-hour care. I was scared I wouldn’t be able to help you. How much could I take on? How much could you take of trying to rehab your hip again? Would you survive it? We decided to take you back to the senior living center.
We met you back at the senior living place. We told all of the staff that your hip was broken and to please tell the next shift. We gave them the order for pain meds. It was the middle of the night so I was not hopeful that any of this would happen.
I came the next morning and again told the staff about your hip. The meds hadn’t been ordered yet. We did get you up and in your wheelchair. Your leg was swollen you were in a lot of pain. I am sorry if we did too much too soon. The doctor did not give us any instructions. He just said it would be painful but to try to make you move. I didn’t want you to just lay there but I don’t know how much we should have moved you either. I was at a loss.
The new head nurse at the facility was not a nice person, and she was not happy that you were back in their care. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. I was afraid you were going to get kicked out. And maybe that would have been the best thing to happen. The next two weeks were awful. You were in so much pain. The staff was mishandling you, and I felt helpless. Hope Hospice was wonderful. They came and took care of you and tried the best they could to keep you comfortable. You just wanted to go home. And I am truly sorry that I didn’t bust you out and bring you home sooner. Two weeks later, you were gone.
The day before you passed I made arrangements to bring you home. I couldn’t take you being in that home anymore. And I felt so guilty for not taking you home right away. You weren’t eating, you were fading away. You were barely talking. You said they were mishandling you. You were pissed at me. I knew I had to do something. Hospice again was wonderful and made arrangements for a hospital bed in the home. You would be there the next day. I had it set up so you could look outside and see the pool. I was so glad you were coming home. We came back and visited you again that evening.
But we were too late. At 4:30 am on February 24, 2021, I got the phone call. You were gone. My heart was broken. I know they say people go when they want to go. Maybe you didn’t want to burden me to care for you 24/7 again. Maybe you didn’t want to put me through the pain of watching another family member enter Heaven from home. Maybe you would have made it if I would have done it a day, two days, or a week earlier. I don’t know the answers to these questions. I just know from my own guilt that I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to be there to hold your hand when you took your last breath. I wanted you to be in your favorite spot right by the pool one more time. I wanted Kuma, the crazy cat, to be snuggled beside you, too. But these are my wants and my guilts and honestly, I don’t know how to get over them. I am so so sorry that I wasn’t there for you in those final moments like you were always there for me. Please forgive me.
So, there you have it, my letter to Gram. All of my guilts and thoughts and failures. And there are so many who have told me that I gave her five wonderful years that she wouldn’t have had without me and in my head, I know she was tired of fighting and being dragged around by us and just wanted to be with her “daddy” (as she called Gramps) in Heaven, but my heart hurts so bad sometimes I can’t take it. I just miss her so much. I miss her cute smile, her laugh, and her positive attitude.
And in my head, I know that bringing her home earlier may not have made any difference. Not putting her into Senior Care may not have made a difference or may have had a more terrible outcome. I guess all I can say is that I am sorry that I disappointed you, Gram. I love you with all my heart and miss you terribly. Please forgive me.
