It has been a tough few weeks for myself and my family.
As we finished celebrating Christmas, and I steadied myself for another handful of days of work before the New Year, my mom sent me a worrisome, but hopeful text:
"Grandma is in the hospital with a respiratory issue, but she should be home in a few days."
I wasn't worried. Grandma had several medical incidents over the last two years. She is a fiece and resilient lady who survived the atrocities of World War II. She ccould certainly overcome a little shortness of breath.
While I was at work the next day, I received a phone call from a close friend of my grandparents. I was standing outside the room of a woman who was actively dying, and I was preparing to go into the room to console and support her overwhelmed daughter. But when I received three missed calls from Ontario, it occurred to me that it was me, who may need support. I was then informed that my Grandmother was on a ventilator, and that her prognosis was poor. Despite the agony of saying goodbye, my Grandpa would allow them to remove the vent in the next 48 hours so that my Grandmother could pass away peacefully, with dignity. The call was to provide an update and urge me to visit now if I wanted to say goodbye.
I didn't cry.
I couldn't cry while I was literally standing in the midst of those very same decisions happening all around me. I am supposed to be able to deal with hard choices, loss, grief and bereavement. I'm the one who can help guide others with those mess emotions. There is no space for me to feel those feelings here.
In the following two days, Grandma rallied (she's got what she calls "tough East Prussian blood" in her.) And while she did come off the vent, she was now trapped on Bilevel Positive Airway Pressure or BiPap, which is a rather uncomfortable full face mask that pushes air to your mouth and nose. I say "trapped" because it is almost impossible to talk with air pushing at your face, and you can't really eat with it either. With the BiPap in place, she was awake but not particularly comfortable.
And I couldn't see her. I couldn't talk to her. I couldn't ask the doctors the millions of questions on my mind. I was over 500 miles away from her side and I couldn't do anything except wait.
I stink at waiting.
I was overwhelmed, anxious, moody, grouchy and completely on edge. Never knowing when the phone would ring. Wondering if I would get bad news, and then quickly have to coordinate an impromptu trip to Ontario... in JANUARY, when it SNOWS. Wishing I could hold her hand and offer her words of comfort that I am able to freely give to so many of my patients and their families. Feeling profoundly helpless. Feeling angry that I couldn't control any part of what was happening. Worrying that she was suffering.
I almost came unglued in those two weeks of uncertainty. All that I have done to break through old patterns of coping with anxiety and sadness, this was a grueling test of my own resiliency. I'd love to say I took it in stride, called out to God for help, and laid my worries at his feet... I mean, that's what I'm supposed to be able to say, because I'm a Christian, (and a professional therapist) and I KNOW what I'm supposed to do in a crisis. I admit, I forgot that when we suffer, we are NOT ALONE, and our Father is waiting for us to call out to Him.
Psalm 34:17-18 (The Message)
Is anyone crying for help? God is listening,ready to rescue you.
If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there; if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath.
On Sunday, January 9th I was laying low, worried, and not wanting to do much of anything. So I decided to watch our small collection of home movies. There are just a few, from a handful of years when my Grandpa had a camcorder and they were exclusively shots with my Grandma & Grandpa, my parents and my sister. But every one of those videos is this precious time capsule, that captured my family for a moment in time. So that, by the time I finished all the videos, I felt like I had spent the day with my family; and with my Grandma. And as the last video ended and I wondered what to watch next, the phone rang...
She died that evening, peacefully on January 9th, 2016 just three days shy of her 90th birthday.
I was honored to be asked by my Grandpa to deliver a eulogy for my Grandma:
I am honored to stand here today as we say goodbye to my wonderful Grandma, Ursula Irma Krakau Frisch.
In the days since Grandma stepped into the beautiful beyond I find myself hearing her words in my head. Her constant insights and advice to me through the years:
“Just Live Your Life Lindsay”
“Don’t rush it.”
“Enjoy being young.”
“You’ve got a good life.”
My Grandmother’s early life was not particularly easy or enjoyable. In fact there were parts of it that were profoundly hard. She lived through World War II, and saw her mother die and her father be forever changed by war. She and her sister, Kika escaped to West Germany and survived by good fortune and what she has always referred to as “Strong East Prussian blood”. She found a new future in Canada and started building a new life. But then endured a broken marriage and divorce before her beloved son, Victor was even two years old.
But through these trials, she developed remarkable resiliency. She learned how to be an incredible single mom with tenacity and grace in a time where she had very few peers to help guide her. She worked, she paid bills, she advocated for herself. She balanced work and motherhood and even figured out how to make sure she had fashionable clothes season to season. She was creative, persistent and unwavering her fight for a happy ending. And when she was ready, she opened her heart and let love come to her. She rebuilt herself a family when she said “yes” to spending the rest of her life with my Grandfather, Reiner.
As Grandma’s family grew, the addition of grandchildren to her life seems to have been quite possibly one of her greatest joys (if I do say so myself!)
She has loved my sister, Erin and I abundantly. She showered us with hugs, kisses, and gifts. She rarely said “no” and indulged our wild imaginations, wishes and games. She instituted a family rule “That when one has a birthday the other gets something too” Forever ensuring that celebrating your sister’s birthday wasn’t so bad and can even be fun, when there’s something in it for you! From encouraging our ginger ale & pound cake tea parties to supplying a basket full of chocolates and an unearned $5 “allowance” at every visit, to donating carrots for our defective rabbit-traps – she embraced the endearing chaos of two rambunctious grandchildren.
On the day that she died, I had decided to watch our small collection of family movies. I watched her laugh, fuss over dinner, share hugs with her family, give gifts, worry that the size of the Christmas sweater was right, and genuinely delight in the marvelous family she helped create. In one moment, in giving a card to my sister on her 10th birthday I heard her say (off camera since she preferred not to be filmed if possible!)
“From all our hearts, Erin that your future is nothing but bright.”
It never occurred to her that we couldn’t attain exactly what we set out to have. She believed in a magical future for all of us. A future unburdened by war, death, despair, divorce, and uncertainty; she knew the secret that I am only now uncovering – when we cherish what we have, we can have it ALL.
She wanted us to find the joy the way she had; even if it takes tremendous work. She wanted us to live in such a way that we savored the beauty of each moment, so that maybe, just maybe we could slow down time, and just rest in the safety and peace of something happy. Because being happy is precious indeed.
As we reflect on all Grandma shared with and taught us, and as we say goodbye, I am so thankful that I was able to introduce her to my husband, Aaron. That she was able to see that I am on my way to the big, bright, stunning life I know she believed I would have.
I am profoundly grateful to have been her granddaughter and to have her wise and loving words; “You have a Good Life” written on my heart.
L
My Help is from You
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