Well, life has slowed down somewhat. We have almost finished doing all we need to do for my Grandmother since Poppie passed. (Don't get me wrong, we will NEVER be finished, but the major items that have needed to be accomplished have almost all been completed.) It still seems so surreal to me. As a matter of fact, last night I closed my eyes to go to sleep and saw my Mom and Grandmother in the room with him after he passed. I am still quite haunted by the events of that night. My days and nights are normal with flashes of the hospital, my family, my own feelings. This whole grieving thing is much harder than I ever imagined. Friday will mark 1 calendar month. Today marks 4 weeks ago that he went to the hospital, 12:30 AM will mark 4 weeks that he has been gone.
So, amid all of our crazy days and long nights, I have managed to contract the nastiest cold I have ever had in my life. I feel like I have the flu. It's rough. However, Theraflu has become my new best friend. I believe in nothing less than a good bottle of Theraflu to lull my body and mind into a sweet slumber.
Other than that, not much has been going on. Other than finding through this journey who my real friends are. I have realized that I have wonderful friends and family that will be there to support and love me. People who really, truly care about ME. I have learned through this one experience that true friends want to help you, they want to be there for you, they want to listen to you and help you through your pain and sorrow. I've finally seen that friendships are not all about ME listening and being there and helping. It is a true TWO WAY STREET!
To YOU, my friends and family....THANK YOU FOR LOVING ME! Thank you for supporting me and being there for anything I need at any time.
Love to you all
~Lou~
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
One Day At A Time
This is what I keep telling myself...One Day At A Time Lou, you can do this. Just take it one day at a time, one step at a time and one breath at a time. So far, so good. I am cautiously optimistic that things are starting to fall into place. Everything is coming together, slowly, but surely. After we get over the hurdles in our way, I will be moving on to working on myself. I have enrolled in Oprah's LifeClass. Monday was the first session. I really enjoyed it and I am thinking this could be a great thing for me. We shall see where it leads. I will blog later to fill you in on the memorial celebration that we held for Poppie on Saturday. For now, I am tired. I am resting for the night.
~Lou~
~Lou~
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Not The Happiest Of Blogs
I'm not even sure I know how to start this blog post. I guess I will just jump in.
If you have been following my blog and reading it, you know that my Grandfather (Pop or Poppie {I may refer to him as both, so, please don't be confused}) was admitted to the hospital for a pulmonary embolism on Tuesday, September 27, 2011. My Sister and Mom left the hospital around 9:30 that night and all was well. Pop was laughing and joking around. Everyone thought he would be just fine. I went to bed at about 10:30, maybe 11. At 12:28 on Wednesday morning my phone rang. It was my Dad. He told me that the hospital called and that Pop was not doing well. He had stopped breathing, had to be put on a ventilator and that he was completely unresponsive. As soon as I got off the phone I immediately got dressed and told DH that I was headed to the hospital because Pop was not doing well, it was exactly 12:30 AM. At 12:32 AM I was headed out the door and getting in my van. (Why I remember exact times is beyond me. But they are burned in my memory forever now.) As I drove the dark, empty streets I could see lightning over in the direction of the hospital. I prayed "Poppie, hang on, I'm coming." But, I knew better, I knew with every flash of lighting it was not good and that my Pop was gone. I arrived at the hospital at 12:46 AM. No one was there. I called my sister and she said that she and my brother in law were pulling in. So, I waited for them. I didn't want to go in alone. My sister and I all but ran into the hospital both saying we didn't like being the first ones there. After having to wait for the snail speed security guy to scan our id's, take our picture, do facial recognition and print our badges, we finally got on our way up to Poppie. I looked at my badge and my sister's, we had different letters, her's said 3A, mine said 3B.....something was NOT right. We got to the floor walked past a station full of nurses, past another smaller station with one nurse and arrived at his room. It was empty. EMPTY. No sheets, no sign of anyone having been in the room. The bed was in an upright position completely bare. My sister and I stood there for what seemed like an eternity just staring. I walked around the corner and looked at the nurse and trying not to cry said "Where is my Grandfather?" She asked who my Grandfather was and I couldn't speak. Nothing would come out of my mouth. All my sister could say was his room number "337". She got up and said "come with me". We walked around to the large nurses station and she spoke with a woman in a white coat. She shook our hands and introduced herself, but, I couldn't tell you her name. She said that he had been moved to ICU just around the corner and that she would take us back there. She got on her phone and I was on her heels and I heard her say "The family is here. They didn't get stopped. They made it to his room." We got into ICU and a doctor was waiting for us in the hallway. He shook our hands and told us who he was, again, I can't remember that. He said he was going to take us around the corner to talk to us. We knew. We knew what had happened. We just didn't want to believe it and I think we needed to hear someone say it. The doctor asked us if we knew what he had been admitted for, and we said, yes, a pulmonary embolism. He said yes, that is what caused him to be admitted. He then started talking and I know he said that it was a miracle that we had gotten him to the hospital at all because most people don't make it to the hospital. He then said that his embolism was massive and that unfortunately, he didn't make it. All I could say was "OH JESUS!" My brother in law (bless his soul) was trying to comfort the 2 of us. The doctor said how very sorry he was and asked if there was anything he could do to help us or if we had any questions he would answer them the best he could. I immediately asked if there was something we could have done to prevent it, and he said that we did the best thing by getting him to the hospital when we did. We then asked if he felt it, was he in pain? Did he know what was happening? He said that he felt no pain and did not know what was going on. He said as soon as the clot moved Pop went unconscious and had no idea what was going on. They did CPR and revived him for a while, then he went into cardiac arrest and they couldn't get him back. They were doing CPR when they called my parents and he was pronounced at exactly 12:30 AM, the very moment I was getting dressed. He died without us. He died without a single person who loves him by his side. I'm so sad about that. I'm so very sad I didn't get to tell him one more time how very much I LOVE him. My Mom, Dad, Grandma and Cousin were still in route to the hospital and my sister and I were panicked at the thought of having to tell them. The doctor said he would tell them, we didn't have to do it. I won't go into the details of watching my Mom and Grandmother get the news, just know, it was heart breaking. When Mom and Ma decided to go see him and say their good byes I took my cousin and went to my Uncle Dan. He was at home alone, and I knew he needed someone with him. I stayed until my family got back from the hospital. We sat and talked for a few minutes, then we all headed out. 3:30 AM I got home, walked in the house and it was SO quiet. Deafening. I changed back into my PJ's and headed to the kitchen. I made a pot of coffee, and sat down to try to watch some tv and get my mind off of everything. It didn't work. I cried, and cried and cried some more. I went to the computer, I wrote a blog...I have no idea where it is...apparently it never posted. I went outside and sat on the front porch. It was still. No breeze. Nothing. Earlier in the evening there had been a lovely breeze, now everything was still. The only sound I could hear were the crickets. I looked up at the sky, stars slightly covered by dark clouds. Then, I heard a laugh...it was POP. I heard Pop laughing! Then I heard him say "Y'all didn't expect that did ya? That was a good one!" I proceeded to answer him "That's NOT funny POP!" (More on this phenomena later so you know I'm not crazy)
We have spent the remainder of our week taking care of Ma and trying to make everything as pleasant as it can possibly be. We have told stories of our Poppie and laughed until our stomachs hurt. During one of our conversations my sister got the most excited look on her face and said "Guess what happened to me yesterday when I went to Farm Fresh (the grocery store of Pop's choice!)!!!" We asked what and she said she got out of her car and looked down and right beside her foot was a.....and she pulled out a nickle. Our mouths fell open, this was not just an ordinary nickle. This was a 2005 Lewis and Clark nickle. She said she could just hear Pop..."Seen this one yet?" She said she had never before seen this nickle, neither had any of us, and said she looked up to the sky and said "HEY POP!" right out loud. Then I told them about me hearing Pop laughing and I told them what I had heard him say, and Ma was shocked, she looked at me and said "I heard him laughing in the living room yesterday when I was getting up from my nap". We are all sure that Pop has made himself known to us. He has made it clear that he is watching over us. We have been able to make difficult decisions with ease. We have felt as if Pop were guiding us, letting us know exactly what he wants. While I don't want to say it has been easy, because GOD knows it has been the hardest thing we have dealt with as a family yet, it has been peaceful. The family (and I mean everyone) is in agreement with all of the decisions, all of the planning.
We have chosen not to have a funeral, instead, we will have an informal, celebration of his life, complete with all of Pop's favorite foods. There will be BBQ and Coleslaw, Brunswick Stew and Cornbread, Butter Beans with Pop's Tomato Vinegar Salad, his beloved 3 Bean Salad, Vinegar Pie, Coconut Creme Pie, and of couse, it wouldn't be complete without Pop's SIGNATURE Fudge. We will have a time to tell our great memories of our Poppie and remember him with love.
My sister has written the obituary (BLESS HER, I couldn't do it). It will be non-traditional as well. That's the way Pop would have wanted it.
Before I go, I'd love to tell everyone a little about my Pop.
My Poppie was fantastic.
He gave me rides on his shoulders.
He could make anyone laugh.
In every situation, there was a joke to be found, and trust me, he found it.
He loved to collect coins.
There was always a treasure to be found anywhere you went.
He loved his family beyond any measure.
He did goofy things.
Life was full of "Popisms".
The Redskins were ALWAYS the team to beat in his book, no matter how bad the season was.
He loved his chewing tobacco.
Everything important is on floppy disk!
He once ate cracker jacks in the dark and ate the prize.
He would always ask you if you remembered.....something that happened way before you were born. And than LAUGH AND LAUGH.
We love you so much Poppie! We will miss you. Keep the angels laughing, and make sure you tell us all the great stories of what we missed when we arrive!
Charlie Lee Spivey 6/2/33-9/28/11
If you have been following my blog and reading it, you know that my Grandfather (Pop or Poppie {I may refer to him as both, so, please don't be confused}) was admitted to the hospital for a pulmonary embolism on Tuesday, September 27, 2011. My Sister and Mom left the hospital around 9:30 that night and all was well. Pop was laughing and joking around. Everyone thought he would be just fine. I went to bed at about 10:30, maybe 11. At 12:28 on Wednesday morning my phone rang. It was my Dad. He told me that the hospital called and that Pop was not doing well. He had stopped breathing, had to be put on a ventilator and that he was completely unresponsive. As soon as I got off the phone I immediately got dressed and told DH that I was headed to the hospital because Pop was not doing well, it was exactly 12:30 AM. At 12:32 AM I was headed out the door and getting in my van. (Why I remember exact times is beyond me. But they are burned in my memory forever now.) As I drove the dark, empty streets I could see lightning over in the direction of the hospital. I prayed "Poppie, hang on, I'm coming." But, I knew better, I knew with every flash of lighting it was not good and that my Pop was gone. I arrived at the hospital at 12:46 AM. No one was there. I called my sister and she said that she and my brother in law were pulling in. So, I waited for them. I didn't want to go in alone. My sister and I all but ran into the hospital both saying we didn't like being the first ones there. After having to wait for the snail speed security guy to scan our id's, take our picture, do facial recognition and print our badges, we finally got on our way up to Poppie. I looked at my badge and my sister's, we had different letters, her's said 3A, mine said 3B.....something was NOT right. We got to the floor walked past a station full of nurses, past another smaller station with one nurse and arrived at his room. It was empty. EMPTY. No sheets, no sign of anyone having been in the room. The bed was in an upright position completely bare. My sister and I stood there for what seemed like an eternity just staring. I walked around the corner and looked at the nurse and trying not to cry said "Where is my Grandfather?" She asked who my Grandfather was and I couldn't speak. Nothing would come out of my mouth. All my sister could say was his room number "337". She got up and said "come with me". We walked around to the large nurses station and she spoke with a woman in a white coat. She shook our hands and introduced herself, but, I couldn't tell you her name. She said that he had been moved to ICU just around the corner and that she would take us back there. She got on her phone and I was on her heels and I heard her say "The family is here. They didn't get stopped. They made it to his room." We got into ICU and a doctor was waiting for us in the hallway. He shook our hands and told us who he was, again, I can't remember that. He said he was going to take us around the corner to talk to us. We knew. We knew what had happened. We just didn't want to believe it and I think we needed to hear someone say it. The doctor asked us if we knew what he had been admitted for, and we said, yes, a pulmonary embolism. He said yes, that is what caused him to be admitted. He then started talking and I know he said that it was a miracle that we had gotten him to the hospital at all because most people don't make it to the hospital. He then said that his embolism was massive and that unfortunately, he didn't make it. All I could say was "OH JESUS!" My brother in law (bless his soul) was trying to comfort the 2 of us. The doctor said how very sorry he was and asked if there was anything he could do to help us or if we had any questions he would answer them the best he could. I immediately asked if there was something we could have done to prevent it, and he said that we did the best thing by getting him to the hospital when we did. We then asked if he felt it, was he in pain? Did he know what was happening? He said that he felt no pain and did not know what was going on. He said as soon as the clot moved Pop went unconscious and had no idea what was going on. They did CPR and revived him for a while, then he went into cardiac arrest and they couldn't get him back. They were doing CPR when they called my parents and he was pronounced at exactly 12:30 AM, the very moment I was getting dressed. He died without us. He died without a single person who loves him by his side. I'm so sad about that. I'm so very sad I didn't get to tell him one more time how very much I LOVE him. My Mom, Dad, Grandma and Cousin were still in route to the hospital and my sister and I were panicked at the thought of having to tell them. The doctor said he would tell them, we didn't have to do it. I won't go into the details of watching my Mom and Grandmother get the news, just know, it was heart breaking. When Mom and Ma decided to go see him and say their good byes I took my cousin and went to my Uncle Dan. He was at home alone, and I knew he needed someone with him. I stayed until my family got back from the hospital. We sat and talked for a few minutes, then we all headed out. 3:30 AM I got home, walked in the house and it was SO quiet. Deafening. I changed back into my PJ's and headed to the kitchen. I made a pot of coffee, and sat down to try to watch some tv and get my mind off of everything. It didn't work. I cried, and cried and cried some more. I went to the computer, I wrote a blog...I have no idea where it is...apparently it never posted. I went outside and sat on the front porch. It was still. No breeze. Nothing. Earlier in the evening there had been a lovely breeze, now everything was still. The only sound I could hear were the crickets. I looked up at the sky, stars slightly covered by dark clouds. Then, I heard a laugh...it was POP. I heard Pop laughing! Then I heard him say "Y'all didn't expect that did ya? That was a good one!" I proceeded to answer him "That's NOT funny POP!" (More on this phenomena later so you know I'm not crazy)
We have spent the remainder of our week taking care of Ma and trying to make everything as pleasant as it can possibly be. We have told stories of our Poppie and laughed until our stomachs hurt. During one of our conversations my sister got the most excited look on her face and said "Guess what happened to me yesterday when I went to Farm Fresh (the grocery store of Pop's choice!)!!!" We asked what and she said she got out of her car and looked down and right beside her foot was a.....and she pulled out a nickle. Our mouths fell open, this was not just an ordinary nickle. This was a 2005 Lewis and Clark nickle. She said she could just hear Pop..."Seen this one yet?" She said she had never before seen this nickle, neither had any of us, and said she looked up to the sky and said "HEY POP!" right out loud. Then I told them about me hearing Pop laughing and I told them what I had heard him say, and Ma was shocked, she looked at me and said "I heard him laughing in the living room yesterday when I was getting up from my nap". We are all sure that Pop has made himself known to us. He has made it clear that he is watching over us. We have been able to make difficult decisions with ease. We have felt as if Pop were guiding us, letting us know exactly what he wants. While I don't want to say it has been easy, because GOD knows it has been the hardest thing we have dealt with as a family yet, it has been peaceful. The family (and I mean everyone) is in agreement with all of the decisions, all of the planning.
We have chosen not to have a funeral, instead, we will have an informal, celebration of his life, complete with all of Pop's favorite foods. There will be BBQ and Coleslaw, Brunswick Stew and Cornbread, Butter Beans with Pop's Tomato Vinegar Salad, his beloved 3 Bean Salad, Vinegar Pie, Coconut Creme Pie, and of couse, it wouldn't be complete without Pop's SIGNATURE Fudge. We will have a time to tell our great memories of our Poppie and remember him with love.
My sister has written the obituary (BLESS HER, I couldn't do it). It will be non-traditional as well. That's the way Pop would have wanted it.
Before I go, I'd love to tell everyone a little about my Pop.
My Poppie was fantastic.
He gave me rides on his shoulders.
He could make anyone laugh.
In every situation, there was a joke to be found, and trust me, he found it.
He loved to collect coins.
There was always a treasure to be found anywhere you went.
He loved his family beyond any measure.
He did goofy things.
Life was full of "Popisms".
The Redskins were ALWAYS the team to beat in his book, no matter how bad the season was.
He loved his chewing tobacco.
Everything important is on floppy disk!
He once ate cracker jacks in the dark and ate the prize.
He would always ask you if you remembered.....something that happened way before you were born. And than LAUGH AND LAUGH.
We love you so much Poppie! We will miss you. Keep the angels laughing, and make sure you tell us all the great stories of what we missed when we arrive!
Charlie Lee Spivey 6/2/33-9/28/11
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