Grandma Bernice Joins her Family in Heaven

Even at 96 years of age, it still comes as a shock when a loved one dies, and although there were small changes in the daily lives of Grandma, Bruce and Lil, indicating her time might be limited, it was still shocking to hear Lil's voice calling for me down the stairs, calling out that they thought Grandma might be dead. Of course I fell apart heading up the stairs, wanting to help out, trying to figure out what I needed to do but somewhat stifled by my tears and attempts to hide my sobs. Having to do nothing really, except somehow pull myself together as I imagined what was going on in the house next door, I tried to entertain Thomas, who said to me as I tried to hold back my sobs, "You ok, Mommy? You got something in your eyes?". No resuscitation was authorized, although there was concern that it would be forced, and in that was finality. Her body was still warm, but Bruce was certain it was over and nothing more should be done. With her feet still in her kitchen, heading towards her chair to watch the Christian programming for the evening, Grandma went to join her husband, son and daughter with the Lord. My last memory of her was on Wednesday as Thomas and I visited briefly outside her sliding glass door and marveled at the snowstorm blowing across the lake. It was a beautiful morning, the snow falling so hard visibility was very limited, and she was sitting at her table in her pink housecoat with Polly. She waved to Thomas, who smiled big and waved back, and remarked about how pretty it was. Polly thought it would be nice to make a snowman outside for her to see. We said our goodbyes and plowed through the deep snow, not realizing it was our last time with her. When John asked me if I wanted to go over that night, I most definitely did not. I did not want my last memory of her to be in death, on the floor. I would prefer to remember her smiling at us in the doorway, in her pretty pink housecoat, so warm and loving till the very end. Thomas loved her very much, and although a lot of his time spent over there was with Bruce and Lil on their trips over to visit her while I was at work, I remember Thomas asking to go visit Grandma Bee-niece. I was amazed the first time at their exchange, as they appeared to have their own communication worked out and their own routine established. Thomas would take a tour of the house, looking here and there, pulling things open, peering inside, then moving on, all the while Grandma would be fishing around for something. I was quite the stranger in this little dance, but I sat back and watched them, fascinated. Thomas ended up at the little table by the couch, pulling open the drawer and rummaging around inside. I feared Grandma would chastise him for touching any breakables inside, but she simply shuffled her way towards him, smiling, a box in her hand. The dance continued as he pulled out the bell and she set out the little figurines that she'd found. He would shake the bell, she would talk to him, then he would pull out the coasters, and she would line up the figures just the way it was supposed to be. "He likes to float them around," she explained to me, and I realized the coasters were the boats and the figurines animals in the boats. They then played together, words very brief, just time together. She didn't seem concerned about her stuff, didn't worry about his little hands on her treasures. It just seemed like they were enjoying what must have been their little ritual. My heart was touched at the gentle way she had with him, the love she showed towards this little boy. In all his life, there was nothing but love from her, even when he was rubbing her nylons up and down her legs, swinging around her cane, running naked across her lawn or launching himself full speed through her house. I'm so thankful for the time he had to know her and pray that the time he had with her, however short, will be as meaningful in the foundation of his life as it has been in ours.