Grandma's Final Journey

Grandma and Grant at Lake Okoboji

My grandma is dying.  That sounds so harsh, but is so real.  It might be tonight.  It might be this weekend.  But the reality is that she is dying.  This reality hit me square in the head after I visited her at the Sioux City hospital a couple of weeks ago.  As she lay in her hospital bed and at the end of my visit, I told her good bye and asked if it was okay for me to go.  Her answer was, "No, let's stick together."  So I sat by her bedside and was there for her.  No words were spoken.  But with my grandma, words aren't a necessary accommodation.  After a bit of time, I asked her again, "Grandma, can I say good bye now?"  Grandma looked me in the eye with that special sparkle, squeezed my hand, and said "yes."  With a kiss and a hug, I left.  I know in my heart this was our final good bye.  Grandma is truly ready to die and join Grandpa in heaven.  But no matter the age (Grandma, Marie Wagner, will turn 93 this month) or the amount of faith, death is never easy.

35th anniversary ~ June 1976

My Grandpa Gib died young (in today's standards) at the age of 74.  The timeline for his death as it relates to me was somewhere between my finishing college and having my kids.  I was always close to my grandparents as my brothers and I had the benefit of living in the same town as them.  We actually lived down the street and were able to walk or ride our bikes to their house.  When my grandpa died, Grandma Gib (for my brothers and I, both of my grandma's inherited the nickname of their spouse...Grandpa's name was Gib Wagner) asked me to give the eulogy at his funeral.  Along with my Aunt Gwen, we both gave our testaments of love to our dad/grandpa as a celebration of his full life.  My notes for the eulogy were handwritten chicken scratch.  After the funeral, Grandma asked if she could keep them.  I rewrote them much neater for her and she framed my words and hung them on her bedroom wall.  Unfortunately there is no automatic "spell check" for a handwritten note and I was reminded of my error in misspelling heaven as "heavan" a minimum of eleven times each time I saw my proud manuscript hanging on the wall.  But my poor spelling didn't faze Grandma as she praised me on many occasions for my words memorializing Grandpa.  She also asked me to do the same for her at her funeral.  I hated to hear this from her.  Talking about her funeral seemed so morbid and unreal.  She was the picture of health and this wasn't something I wanted to think about; let alone add to my to-do list.

My brothers and I ~ March 1977
Grandma is laughing because I am mimicking her

But now I am thinking about it a lot.  I am not worried about the actual act of giving her eulogy or even if I will be one of the family members delivering it.  Grandma has many great kids and grand kids that can share the spirit of my grandma just as well as I can.  But her words and wishes have motivated me to write about my Grandma while she is still alive and finishing the last part of her journey on earth.  The prayers and drive time from my final visits with her have given me time to reflect and recapture my stories and thoughts that epitomize this awesome lady, my grandma.


I really can't compare my grandma to anyone.  I have never met anyone quite like her.  In addition to her spunk, wittiness and drive; she has always been one tough cookie.  We loved to humor Grandma and she encouraged us with her contagious laugh.  Her own wittiness sharpened as her Alzheimer's took over her mind.  As her mind forgot, her tongue picked up the slack.  As late as last fall, Grandma had us crying in laughter with her funny comments and comedic timing.  I sometimes asked myself if Grandma really had Alzheimer's or if miraculously she was going to tell us that she was playing us all along to watch our reaction.  There is something surreal about this disease when the afflicted seem of perfect health and sound mind; other than having a five minute memory span.  This was the case with my Grandma Gib.

Sandy, Gma, Matt & Ky

The Alzheimer's also gave her a bit of "truth serum" as we all knew she would tell us exactly what she thought of our clothing, looks, or words.  But all these comments were made with a smile on her face.  On a visit last fall Grandma commented on the many colors in my hair.  "Do you like it?"  I asked wincing as I awaited her answer.  "Yes."  she answered. (whew!).  Okay, I decided to push the envelope a bit and asked, "Grandma, I just had my birthday.  Do you know how old I am?"  "No, I don't," she answered.  "I am 43!" I tell her.  "Yous…43?  I can't believe that.  You were such a blessing to us when you were born."  (awe!)

Grandma, you have been a blessing in my life and in the lives of all of your children and grandchildren.  We have been blessed with a grandma with a sparkle in her eye, great sense of humor, and a true giver in all she did in life.  Grandma was the forever caregiver.  My cousins, brothers and I spent so many days and nights at Grandma and Grandpa Gib's.  She spent most of her time baking and cooking in the kitchen or quilting.  Grandma's cookies were her trademark.  They came in all types, but she was known famously for her M&M, chocolate chip, and frosted refrigerator cookies.  Not only did we enjoy them from her cookie jar (always with a piece of bread in the jar to keep the cookies fresh), but anyone visiting her house was sent home with at least one baggie of cookies, if not two, secured with a twist tie.  As with any good former-farm wife, Grandma did not believe in "low-fat" or "heart-healthy" cooking.  Her frequent cooking staples included oleo, butter and oil.  Her meats of choice were not the lower fat cuts and everything was with rich flavor and true comfort food.  And we savored every morsel.

Remsen Kids Day ~ Summer of 1975
Mark, Sandy and Matt with Grandma and Grandpa Gib

Until Alzheimer's took over Grandma's memory, she and I would laugh and laugh over our “pancake story”.  Grandma was famous for making "breakfast for dinner".  One summer night as a child, I was hanging out with Grandma and Grandpa and stayed for dinner.  It was a common occurrence in the summer to just simply spend the day with my grandparents.  That night was just the three of us and Grandpa was still outside messing with one of the vehicles.  Not wanting to wait any longer for Grandpa, Grandma sat down a fat stack of pancakes in front of me.  As I poured on the maple syrup, I noticed some foreign objects peaking out of my meal.  I looked closer and realized that there were short black hairs cooked into my pancakes.  I tried to figure out what to do as I didn't want to hurt my grandma's feelings, but knew I needed to say something before Grandpa received his stack.  "What?"  Grandma exclaimed after I pointed out the abnormality.  The mystery was soon solved when Grandma realized that she had set the griddle out and then went about her day.  This consisted of her quietly quilting in the living room and me sitting by her side.  While Grandma and I enjoyed this down time, Kitser, her kitty, must have laid down on her griddle (not on, of course).  Grandma didn't wipe off the griddle before pouring the batter which resulted in the final product of fur pancakes.  She was so embarrassed, but we would laugh for years remembering how we both closely examined those pancakes trying to solve the mystery of the foreign hairs.

Hanging with Grandma while she quilted is a very fond memory.  I could sit in the warm sunlight by the living room window and watch grandma quilt for hours.  We would talk or just sit in silence.  Silence was never uncomfortable with Grandma.  And we would always have Kitser for extra company.  Grandma loved kitties.  They have given her much happiness over her 93 years.  Yet Grandma is still a farm girl at heart.  When I recently told her about my sweet kitty who was having "potty problems" and was having accidents in my house, Grandma responded with no hesitation, "Sounds like you need to send that kitty out to the barn."

Mark opens a gift while Aunt Gwen looks on.
Grandma is holding me and Dad, Matt.

Outside her house, Grandma had many hobbies and past times.  Grandma held a side job.  She cleaned the Remsen Public Library and they loved her.  I frequented the library and they would just beam when they spoke of Grandma.  When Grandma and Grandpa started wintering in Arizona, she asked me fill in for her in her absence.  Although I found cleaning the empty library exhilarating (felt like a Night at the Museum adventure), I couldn't hold a candle to the bar my grandma had set and I was reminded of this often by the library ladies.  In addition to her love for the library, my grandma loved to communicate by writing letters to family members.  One would never know by Grandma's excellent writing skills and love for the written word that she only had a grade school education.  Her siblings did not attend high school, so when Grandma, the youngest, expressed her desire to go to high school, she was told no.  Grandma always had much regret that she never graduated from high school, something she wanted badly.

Grandma was also always on a diet.  I would tag along with her to her "TOPPS" meetings.  These were a local version of Weight Watchers with weekly meetings in the conference room at the library.  The meetings entailed a weekly weigh in and then motivational meetings with takeaways like refrigerator stickers that said "once on the lips forever on the hips".  Grandma took me with her to many of these meetings.  I think Grandpa would have called these "cackle sessions".  All of Grandma's quilting friends were members.  The ironic part was that I never remembered anyone actually losing weight; they just talked about it a lot.

Having fun at Grandma and Grandpa's ~ Nov 1977
Matt, Mark
Tiphanie, Beth, Sandy, Kelly

All who have known my Grandma know she has always been a giver.  She never wanted the spotlight or asked for anything in return.  She doted on her grandkids and especially loved little babies.  She would gladly take on babysitting the newborns often.  She always gave with her grandkids, making our stays there an adventure and letting us rummage through their house, particularly the upstairs and basement, finding old toys to play with and treasures to find.  Visitors to her home saw her "Goodwill table" on their exit out.  Similar to a rummage sale display, this is where she would offer her free giveaways.  These were truly items we all would simply give to Goodwill.  But Grandma wanted to offer them to her family and friends first, so would display her giveaways for anyone with interest to take home with them.

Grandpa and Grandma looking good ~ 1971

Although Grandma would appear from the outside to be a homebody, she was actually a seasoned traveler.  She and Grandpa were very involved in the Catholic Order of Foresters.  Their commitment and involvement took them all over the world.  They loved to visit their many friends and family across the country and enjoyed new adventures.  On my last visit to Grandma I brought with me a rosary she gave me as a gift.  This is a very special rosary as she took it with her to the Vatican and it has been blessed by the Pope.  I have seen stacks of pictures of Grandma and Grandpa visiting interesting destinations.  You could pick out the era based on my grandma's glasses and wardrobe style.  There were pictures with lobster bibs, bare feet in the water, mountains, and amusement park rides.  Although she wouldn't openly admit this; like our Grandpa Gib, Grandma liked an adventure.  But she would prefer for us to just see her as "Grandma".

I have two especially fond memories that involve my Grandma that bring a big smile to my face and that I want to share.  Both involved my high school years and were indicative of my Grandma’s personality; her kind nature and her spunk.  The first centered on my driving abilities (or lack thereof) at age sixteen.  Rest assured, I have since redeemed myself and am no longer a menace to society.  But in 1983, this wasn’t the case.  Driver’s Ed was a struggle for me.  I over thought basic driving functions (seriously…wouldn’t it be logical to think that you would need to accelerate to turn a corner?) and the miscalculations that followed resulted in my Driver’s Ed teacher requiring a driver’s test for me prior to my being issued an official driver’s license.  That didn’t go well for me either as I flunked two driver’s tests.  My grandpa got wind of this and took matters into his own hands.  Grandpa Gib (post-stroke) decided that all I needed was some practice time on the winding Iowa highway system.  So we took to the road with me behind the wheel, Grandpa as my co-pilot, and Grandma in the back seat.  Grandpa would instruct me to “hug the line” when he felt I was too far to the right.  I would follow his instruction which would quickly be followed by Grandma gasping and wincing in the back seat.  This was then a sign to Grandpa to tell me to start “hugging the right”.  Again, if I got too close to the right, wincing and gasping would come from the back seat.  This exercise continued over our hours on the road until I finally figured out how to stay in the middle of my lane.  I am sure Grandma was scared for her life, but never said a negative word.  And yes, the practice and instruction did pay off as I passed my next try at the driver’s exam with flying colors.

My next memory was shortly after I obtained my driver’s license.  I was in LeMars with my friend, Bev, hanging out with her brother who lived there.  When it was time to go home and make our curfew, Bev and I realized that our ride had already left.  LeMars was nine miles from Remsen and we desperately needed a ride.  Keep in mind that this was an era before cell phones.  Today our dilemma could have been quickly resolved with a series of text messages.  Instead Bev and I went out by the busy “loop” looking for a familiar Remsen car to catch a ride home.  We did just that and hopped into the car of some friends as they started their trek home.  Not two blocks from the point we jumped in their car, they were pulled over by the police.  Found in the car were “open containers” and we were all cited for M.I.P. (Minors in Possession).  I cried my eyes out and tried desperately to defend myself to my parents.  My pleas fell on deaf ears as my dad promptly put “For Sale” signs in my Nova and parked it on Main Street for three weeks.  My grandparents were wintering in Arizona during my run in with the law.  A week after “my arrest”, the violation was printed in the LeMars Daily Sentinel, of which my Grandma was having forwarded to her in Arizona.  She was appalled by this injustice and sent me the following letter explaining her intent to write the paper.  And that she did and it was published on the front page.  Although as a teenager I was a bit embarrassed by the additional attention, I will never forget the love I felt by Grandma going to bat for me.

So now my spunky grandma has grown weary and tired of her physical woes.  On my last visit with her, she told me that she was “Going home.  Grandpa was waiting".  Yes, Grandma, it is time to go home and there is no doubt that Grandpa is waiting.  We will miss our lovely matriarch and surely cry many tears, but our hearts are full of Grandma's love and memories are full of Grandma's smile.  And per Grandma's request, we will sing her favorite hymn, "Make me a Channel of Your Peace", as we bid her good-bye and pray for her peaceful journey to Heaven.

Make me a channel of Your peace
Where there is hatred let me bring Your love
Where there is injury, Your pardon, Lord
And where there's doubt, true faith in You

Oh, Master, grant that I may never seek
So much to be consoled as to console
To be understood as to understand
To be loved as to love with all my soul

Make me a channel of Your peace
Where there's despair in life let me bring hope
Where there is darkness, only light
And where there's sadness, ever joy
Make me a channel of Your peace
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned
In giving to all men that we receive
And in dying that we're born to eternal life

Dad, Gma and Aunt Barb