There Was a Storm

It popped up so quickly.  I clocked out of work at 3:30 and tired not to speed on my way home, in an attempt to beat the darkening storm clouds that were chasing me.  I talked to myself after glancing in the rire view and side mirrors. "We will be OK.  God will not give me more then I can handle.  Whatever happens will be for His glory, and He will help me to get through this.  We'll going to be OK."

Twenty minutes later I was pulling into our drive way.  The wind was hurling around the barn yard and dust was blowing everywhere.  The yellow milk wagon was  rolling across the drive way by itself, which I thought was rather funny. 

It ended upside down.

I drove into the barn, due to the garage door not opening because the power was already out.  I ran through a cloud of dust, dirt, chicken feathers, straw and hay to close the barn door and found mom struggling with it already.   "Go close the windows!" Mom said.  

As I entered the house, an older lady got out of her Equinox and called out "Can I stay in your basement?"  I welcomed her in and we both started closing windows before heading to the cellar.  Mom soon joined us and the two senior ladies started chatting. 

We sat in the cellar waiting for the wind to finish it's temper tantrum for over 15 minutes.  At last we emerged to find leaves and twigs all over the yard and one tree branch down, which had just missed the house.

Apples all over the yard.

One of the old silage wagons got blown to pieces.  (It wasn't in very good shape to begin with.)

The silage wagon parts caused the auger to over turn.

We were without power for about fifteen hours, most of which were during the evening. 

The clean up began the next day.

That storm was in early July and as I finish this post, we await the coming of another Derecho storm expected to hit sometime this afternoon. This time mom and I are ready: barn doors, closed and chained.  Vehicles, under cover.  Auger, put away. Gasoline for generator, in the barn.  Mom, cutting watermelon so we'll have something to eat (looks like she's eating every other piece she cuts).  Dad, on his way home from work in hopes of cutting a tree limb down that's hovering over the electric line.  Me, on stand by to get clothes off the line and close windows. 

Death is a part of Life

Mom and I got a call last Monday saying that my paternal grandma had fallen in her bathroom and was on the way to the hospital.  Mom called Dad, who was at work.  He met the EMT at the hospital, just as they were taking Grandma in.  Grandma had had a stroke, and it was too late for the local hospital to be of much help.  So, she was life flighted to University hospital where she had a two hour surgery to have the blood clot on her brain removed.  However, the clot was too stuck and the surgery was unsuccessful.  We were told that Grandma could have another stroke in the next 2-5 days, and if there was any swelling on her brain, she would die. 

Wednesday, I was at work.  Lunch was over and while putting dishes away, I heard my name over the speaker phone: "Tiffany: line one."  It was Mom and Dad, saying that Grandma was having some very light therapy done, and during that time she became non-responsive and was put on a ventilator.  We knew Grandma's living will declared that she did not wish at any time to be put on a ventilator.  We had no choice but to do as she wished. 

I left work early so I could head to the hospital with Mom and Dad.  I didn't want to regret not saying good bye to Grandma.  We walked into Grandma's room in ICU and 'visited' with her for a few minutes.  We held her hand, talked to her, asked her to squeeze our fingers, etc.  But there was no response whatsoever.

The Dr. came and after a few minutes of discussion, we all agreed the best thing for Grandma was to take her off the ventilator, in line with her wishes. 

We left the hospital not knowing how long it would be before we received 'The Call'.

 It came Friday evening around 11:25 p.m.  Grandma had died at 11:01 p.m.  I thought I would be ready to hear the news, but I don't think anything can prepare you for the real thing.  I had a hard time falling back to sleep that night.  I worked all weekend; I felt numb to the recent death in our family.  I was treating it like a death at the nursing home:  write it on the board that so-and-so expired, feel sad for the day, yet somewhat glad there is one less mouth to feed.  

The viewing was Tuesday. I thought the realization of Grandma's death would hit me, but it didn't.  It was a long three hours of people giving me hugs, most of whom I didn't know.  The funeral was Wednesday. Again, I thought 'this will be the day I have a break down'. I cried, but not very much.  When everyone had left the church's sanctuary and we had a few minutes to be alone, Natasha looked at Grandma lying in her final resting bed, and said "Gate Gam-ma [Great Grandma]. Sleeping."  My heart melted, right then and there.  Even a day or so later, Natasha would still say "Gam-ma sleeping. At. Church."

Great Grandma and Natasha 2010

The past two weeks have felt like a whole month, yet they have gone by so fast.  I have felt numb the past week and a half.  I feel out of sorts.  I wasn't like this when Grandpa died . . . I think it's because all of Dad's family is now gone (he was an only child).   Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas won't be the same.  Grandma, nor Grandpa will be there.    

Grandpa and Grandma (Lloyd and Wilma) 2006

Mother and son Christmas 2010

Good bye, Grandma.  I look forward to hearing you play the harp when I get to Heaven.

Love Tiffy 

Grandma and me fall 2009

No farewell words were spoken
no time to say goodbye
you were gone before I knew it,
and only God knows why.

~ Author Unknown