Hey everybody.
Well.
MIL died yesterday after being off the ventilator for about 3 hours. The doctor took her off the Deprovan, so she was awake. She saw everyone there--all six kids, a couple of kid-in-laws, and about a dozen of her grandkids. She wasn't able to speak, but she let us know that she knew we were there. She knew what was happening. She was aware when the priest came to give her last rites. She heard her daughter tell her to go and be with their dad. She heard her granddaughter tell her to go and hold the baby she lost back in the summer--"Go get my baby, grandma." She knew her grandkids traveled from far off places in the middle of the night to hold her hand and kiss her forehead one last time. She heard everyone talking about the good times. The not-so-good times. The tamale casserole that they loved to hate. She heard the daughters talking about how they were going to have to make the Thanksgiving dressing this year, and it wasn't going to be pretty. And she heard her children and grandchildren praying the Rosary through tears and heart-wrenching sobs during the last 20 minutes of her long and blessed life. That was the saddest thing I have ever witnesed in my life. But moments after she was gone and the oldest son said "Damn, Momma, you just had to go the hard way to pay us back for everything, didn't you!" and the room was full of laughter, the healing began. We all held each other and cried and laughed and cried some more and then all found our private corners to make the necessary phone calls.
So now we move on and carry out the plans she had made. All the grandsons will look handsome as they carry her casket in. Her favorite priest will sing her favorite song. Hundreds of her friends, family, and even people she's pissed off over the years will come to her beloved church for her last mass. And then we will drive down the street she drove for years and deliver her to her spot beside her Frank--just a block from her home. And we will cry one more time before we return to her home and eat cakes and pies that her dear friends will bring and drink beer that her sons will import from their favorite hometown convenience stores and laugh and laugh as we remember her stubborn, proper, southern, God-fearing life and all the lovely, funny, traumatizing stories of a mother who raised 6 kids and didn't break one of them!
One more thought. Of course, I've never met any of you in person, but you are all my friends. You crack me up, and I love hearing about your lives. Your kids. Your families. Your trips to Target. I think about you all when I'm away. And I love you all. Yesterday was a reminder to me to hold close the people who are important to me. And just because I only know you through my computer screen, I feel like you're a part of my life. And if any of you ever cancel your internet service, I'll hunt you down and force you to sign up for AOL.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a boy's suit to hem.
Lori