This One's For You Grammy

What a beautiful woman. Deserving of a tribute. I have been struggling with how much to share about the passing of Grammy on this blog being that it is a "baby blog". Death is so often a taboo subject about which discussion is avoided at all costs. And my intention for these journals is to eventually print them off into a book for my precious Hallie Grace to have as reminder of her young childhood. I know she will be reading this someday and although I am a bit unsure about how these words might affect her I know that if she is half as strong as her Grammy was then she will be able to read this. So in other words, I have been wondering what would be appropriate to write about....

So since this is Hallie's blog it's only appropriate to start with her. My heart breaks all over again each time I begin to think about Hallie and Grammy and the relationship they could have had. I can say one thing with 100% certainty...Hallie is missing out big time. I can't even begin to describe the deep love that Grammy had for Hallie but I'm sure that this love shone through on just about every blog post. My mom used to say, "Ashley, you can't have grandchildren until after I turn 50! I can't be a 40-something grandma!" Fast forward to the day after Hallie's birth..."why didn't you and Riley do this sooner?" Although Grammy had built somewhat of a tough exterior after a lifetime of fighting for her health, Hallie Grace could melt her heart in an instant. Two weeks away from "her baby" felt like a lifetime and she would call everyday to ask "how's my baby?" I could almost see her smile through the phone...beaming with happiness at the sound of Hallie's coos or laughs. She loved that baby girl to no end. I absolutely despise that now I have to type the word "was" instead of "is", "lived" instead of "lives", "loved" instead of "loves." But I really don't have to use the past tense because my heart knows that she is still doing all of those things in the present tense...except now she won't go two whole weeks without seeing her baby. She will see her every move, every milestone being achieved, every birthday, every holiday, etc... 

Thursday, February 24th. A long, heart wrenching day. The day we said goodbye to momma. The events of that day will remain embedded in my mind forever. I woke up that morning in a hurry. My plan was to see mom that day. I was going to hurry up and see a couple of patients and then I would make my way to OKC to visit her in the hospital. She hated that place. It took up way to much of her precious life. Stole way too many of her short number of days on this earth with us. I got the phone call from my dad around 9 o'clock. One phone call. As a child having a parent with a serious heart condition and several other medical ailments, I was almost conditioned to expect bad news when I received a phone call from my mom, dad, or my Aunt Lana. They seemed to be the relayers of bad news. "You're mom has been sent by ambulance to OKC" or "your mom is going back into surgery because she is bleeding too much" or "your mom has pneumonia and they are admitting her to the hospital." One thing that I look back on and admire is the fact that my parents helped Bailey and I maintain as normal of a childhood as we could despite what seemed like mom's annual round of serious medical problems. Mom wasn't a "sick" mom. She was there for every game, every track meet (when my nerves would allow her to be there, lol), every twirling competition, every awards banquet, she would direct our church's vacation bible school, etc. Never allowing her own struggles to interfere with the lives of her children. So when the phone rang, I had this overwhelming feeling of dread. I knew in my heart that my mom had a very long road to get healthy again this time. And I even told Riley two nights before her passing that I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel very clearly like I always could before. Momma always came home from the hospital. The doctors always had an answer. She always took care of herself and followed every doctor order to the last detail. Momma always came home. On this day, she still came home. Our eternal home is now blessed with the presence of a beautiful soul.

As I fumbled to answer my phone it's almost as if I heard the words before my dad even spoke them to me, it's almost as if I could feel the wind being let out of the sail, almost as if my mom had been trying to prepare me for this news. But of course I wasn't ready when I heard my dad say the words, "Ash, you need to get up here. The doctors say the family needs to start making their way up here." The drive to OKC was the most agonizing two hours I could every imagine. My mother? Excuse me? I'm not comprehending. My mom is Karen. Karen doesn't accept defeat. Karen defies all odds. Karen has doctor's that have all the answers. Karen is the exception to the rule. Although I don't think I could have been more stunned and sickened by this phone call, a little voice in the back of my head was telling me "you knew this day was coming." That's why the voice was in the back of my head because was trying to drown it out. This little voice didn't show up until Tuesday. Tuesday was the last "real" conversation I had with my precious mother being they were giving her large doses of morphine during the two following days and all she was able to give were one word answers. And unfortunately it wasn't one of our normal light-hearted, Hallie-filled conversations. Instead, on this day, I believe my mom was trying to prepare me for what was to come. We had finally as a family come to terms with the fact that we were staring right down the road of a second heart transplant. And what a long road that would have been. But I guarantee we were ready, we were willing and able to stand by her side everyday until she made it through another one. On Tuesday my mom spoke with the doctor and got the news that she would need another transplant to survive. My last conversation that I spoke of above was right after she received this news. Of course this news was devastating considering we had expected her to have many more years with this donated heart. My mom wasn't sure if she was ready for the fight at that moment. And now I know that she must've known what was happening. As a family, we were busy preparing ourselves for the fight. We had done it before, and we could do it again. As for my mom, I had no doubt that she was strong enough to handle another one. But this is where God intervened and it was his will to free my mom from suffering, pain, and despair. I don't understand this though. I am mad, and sad, and shocked, and just plain frustrated. No denying that. I can replay the last month in my head a million times but I will never understand or comprehend why this happened. As we go through the next few days, weeks, months and even years, there is one thing I do understand...His grace is sufficient. I am so going to miss our afternoon phone calls to eachother where we talked about everything..or nothing at all. She was my "call" as I like to put it. She was the person I called. When I was upset, angry, had a funny joke, or had good news to share. On the drive home on Thursday I kept thinking about how I don't have a "call" anymore. It took me a day or two to realize that I don't need a phone to call my "call"....she hears me.  

I believe this is probably universal for most people and the way they feel about their own mothers but I always felt so lucky to have the mom that I had. I would pray and thank God for allowing her to be my mom. I think I hit the jackpot. What am I most thankful for? So many things but I thought I would list a few just to remind myself from time to time:

• Her discipline. Not that I was the perfect child by any means, but I did always have her voice in the back of my head saying "do you really think what you are about to do would make me proud?" If the answer was "no" then 99% of the time, I chose not to do it.
• Her calm spirit about her that paired well with my sometimes high strung personality. She always knew the right words to say to calm me down when I was in a tizzy (which if you had asked her she would have said that I was in a tizzy everyday) ;)
• Her modesty. My mom wasn't a flashy person. She didn't care about driving fancy cars or wearing fancy clothes....so it must have been unconditional love that allowed her to feed my desire to wear certain clothes and look a certain way so that I would feel like I "fit in" at school. I love her for that. My mom didn't brag....well except about her kids and her Hallie Grace....and maybe if the Rams won their game on Sunday.
• Her cooking skills. I wish badly that she would ahve passed these on to me but that is not the case...I wish I would have spent more time in the kitchen as her apprentice.
• Her self-control was beyond amazing. I cannot remember a single time that my mom and dad had an actual fight. Can't even really remember a silly argument. She loved everything about him. And vice versa. They set the bar very high for me as a married couple and gave me a perfect example...Lord knows I haven't done the best job at living up to the example they have set but I sure am trying. She followed every doctor's order by the book, she wrote down every tenth of a mile that she drove in home health as to not over-estimate her mileage, she stayed away from foods that she knew she wasn't allowed, and so on and so on.
• Her enthusiasm was contagious. She used to get so excited about the silliest things. For example, the Sunday morning comics. She was like my own personal rooster at dawn laughing at the kitchen table. She so badly wanted us to be interested in these comics...that wasn't gonna happen ;). She would always say "who does this remind you of?" while laughing when I would read it and figure out the comic reminded her of me.
• Her fearlessness. I have never heard my mom utter the word "nervous." And I'd venture a guess that that might be my most spoken word. We were complete polar opposites when it came to that. She could get up in front of people and talk with no problem...I remember she would be preparing for giving an inservice at work and I'd ask her if she was nervous and of course her answer was always "no." I couldn't fathom someone not being pee your pants nervous about public speaking. I remember feeling so silly yacking to my mom about being scared about getting an IV when I gave birth. I kept telling her "but mom, you make it look so painless." I had seen her stabbed with needless and have huge inicisons too many times to count so I have no earthly idea why I chose to whine to her about my IV. ;) I also remember asking her if she was scared to have her transplant. The only time I ever saw fear in her eyes was the day after her transplant when she was on the ventilator...she was scared to be alone. Well momma, guess what? I feel your pain on that one now.
• Her orneryness. She told it like it was and she wasn't afraid of what others thought. Ask any of the nurses on the 7th, 8th, and 9th floors of Intergris...they would be sure to tell you that she is brutally honest.
• Her big heart. I mean that figuratively and literally. She had a big heart before they transplanted a larger man's heart in her.
• Her faith. Unending and unshakable. Through all of her struggles, somehow she never asked "why me?" She never complained. She never questioned God. She read her Bible every night. She prayed faithfully. 
• Her football obsession. Even though she was a little bit behind since she just recently became a crazy fanatic after receiving her man heart, I enjoyed two years with a new partner in crime to cheer loud and throw pillows with. I will wear her Rams shirt with pride now! ;) Maybe even secretly cheer for Texas (except for Red Rivarly weekend of course...sorry momma). I know what you are thinking....Texas fan and a Sam Bradford fan? Haven't you figured out she wasn't normal yet? Lol.
• Her selflessness. Her mission was to please those that she loved. I remember too many occasions to count where she sat down and watched an entire movie with me and only afterward told me that she had not really wanted to watch it at all because it looked "stupid." Or how many times she took me shopping and pretended to be completey interested in my dressing room fashion shows when she really just wanted to go home and relax because she secretly felt horrible. She didn't want me to worry. Same goes for my dad and sister. She would put on a good act when she felt bad and never admitted that something was affecting her.
• Her sense of fashion. Or lack there of. This was a running joke for years in our family. We wanted to nominate her for What Not To Wear. But she had her very own Stacy and Clinton with Bailey and I helping her pick out clothes.

I so badly want to be like her. Be as good as she was. I want to love as much as she did. I want to be a good therapist like she was. And I want to live life without fear like she did. I want to be remembered like she was. My mother always told us "I don't have any friends." Well I think yesterday told a different story. With upwards of 325 people who attended her celebration of life service, I would say that she was mistaken. Thank you to each and every one of you reading this who was there physically and in spirit yesterday. Each face meant so much to see. Each hug helped heal our hearts. Thank you for the flowers, cards, memorial gifts, donations to her chosen foundations, meals, hugs, phone calls, texts, emails, and FB messages.

The eulogy and message yesterday are two things I will never forget. During the days leading up to her life celebration I pictured us walking in, trying to listen to the people get up one by one and speak their words and in the end I figured that I would be in too much of a daze to remember it all. Well not when you have such powerful speakers...I will carry those words that I heard yesterday with me forever. If only to give some sense of comfort and understanding. One of my mom's friends read a poem yesterday that I absolutely loved and I wanted to share it.....

The Dash

by Linda Ellis

I read of a man who stood to speak

At the funeral of a friend

He referred to the dates on her tombstone

From the beginning to the end

He noted that first came the date of her birth

And spoke the following date with tears,

But he said what mattered most of all

Was the dash between those years

For that dash represents all the time

That she spent alive on earth.

And now only those who loved her

Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not how much we own;

The cars, the house, the cash,

What matters is how we live and love

And how we spend our dash.



Hallie Grace, you are one lucky gal. You now have your very own guardian angel.....