(((NANA)))

Today is the day our family tells the hospital to remove Nana from life support. My heart is broken. Nana is 94 years old. Her lungs are weak. Her body is no longer able to fend off pneumonia. The doctors say their is nothing more they can do. The ventilator is doing all of her breathing.

Friday I went to see her. I sang her songs. That’s when I realized that a lot of our old hymns have to do with leaving this life and spending eternity with Jesus. “I’m gonna trust in the Lord,” “By and By When the Morning Comes” and so on. They were kinda hard to get out. She opened up her eyes for me for a little while. Then she cried. I wiped her eyes and told her it would be OK. My sister came and brought pictures of the kids. She opened her eyes again and looked at the pictures then went back to sleep.

I went to tell Nana thank you for all she’s done throughout my life. I went to tell her that I loved her. The model family we were not, but Nana took good care of us. She ironed our school clothes for us which meant, ironing down at least 50 pleats on our uniform jumpers every morning.

I took our teenager Saturday so she could have a moment with her.

Kudos to the nurse who heard us crying in the waiting room attempting to leave the hospital and brought us a box of tissue.

Even when you know the inevitable is coming, when you think you’ve prepared mentally for what will happen, your heart betrays you.

I plan on keeping myself busy up till the time its time to go to the hospital.

Please, please, please remember my mom in prayer. She was Nana’s sole caregiver (no nursing home could ever meet her high standards) and is an only child. She struggled coming to terms that we really were at the end of Nana’s life. Please remember her in prayer.

Nana may very well get to meet Jesus face-to-face today, but the rest of us mourn.

See you in the morning Nana.