Losing Nana

{ This post has explicit descriptions and photos of death-related topics.}

Nana in the 1980s

On Friday, April 22, I was home with the kids. Nate was en route from Nairobi to Ithaca via Doha, Qatar, and Philly. When my phone rang, I was reading pre-nap books to the kids on the couch, and Nate was on the Nairobi-Doha leg of his trip. 

Janet was on the phone. She was in Nana's apartment at the Homestead with Gwen and Rob. They wanted us to know that Nana was dying, suddenly and surely. The nurse told them that she didn't think Nana would live through the weekend. I said the kids and I would pack the car and be there that night. 

An hour later, with much help from Cora (who packed her and Silas's book bags and our car snack bag), we were on the road. We arrived in St Albans at about 10:30pm and went straight to Nana's apartment, where the family had assembled. Kristen and Mike had just arrived with Kyra and Kali; Jill, Janet and Pete, Rob and Gwen, Mandy and her boyfriend Justin, and Skylar were there. Nana was still alive, but hadn't been awake or spoken since Thursday afternoon. She was breathing slow, long breaths; she looked small and fragile, but beautiful. 

The apartment was a strange mix of somber and celebratory, where it was OK for all of us to feel whatever was real to us from moment to moment. People were sitting quiet vigil with Nana in her bedroom, talking to her about their love or memories or plans for the future; others were snuggling the kids; others were telling stories and making jokes. 

Late night with Uncle Rob

It was late and dark, a time that few of us had ever been at the Homestead. The nurses visited every couple hours to check Nana, or give her morphine, or adjust her position. The kitchen staff brought us a cart full of fruit and snacks. I felt relieved to be surrounded by loved ones, and that we had made it in time to say goodbye to Nana. The kids and I sat for a while with Nana, holding her hand. 

We left after 1am to drive to Janet & Pete's house for bed, not climbing into our sheets until 2am. I slept in the same room as the kids, glad to have their little selves near me. 

The next morning we ate breakfast with Uncle Peter and then headed to the Homestead, where we met up with all the family who had been there the night before. Amy and Gregg and Cole had arrived that morning. Family friend Nan had arrived, too. Janet and Rob and Jill had slept in Nana's apartment with her; she was in the same condition as we'd left her the night before. We continued our vigil, sometimes sitting with her in her bedroom, sometimes talking together in the living room, sometimes checking on the kids as they played in the basement or watched a movie in the theater room. The nurses kept up their regular visits. Nana was getting morphine everything two hours by then. 

One of many group scenes in Nana's living room that day

Entertaining the kids

The kids were not frightened of how different Nana looked, maybe because the adults just touched and spoke and sat with her without hesitation. I took one photo when I found all the littlest kids sitting vigil with her at one point in the morning:

Kyra (not pictured), Cole, Nana, Kali, Cora

My own parents couldn't make it to Vermont from Utah, where they were at a hockey tournament with James, Marley, and Skylin. But they were in regular contact with all of is that morning:

At breakfast in Utah that morning

When the nurses visited around 2pm, we all left the bedroom as we always did. Many people took off for a break, getting coffee or going for short walks downstairs. Mandy and Kyra went in to be with Nana after the nurses left, and I followed the shortly after. They were watching Nana intently, and we could see that there was a change in her. She was shallowly gulping breaths. I turned and headed downstairs, looking for Janet and Gwen. Mandy called Rob in from the living room. Soon, nearly everyone (except the youngest three kids: Silas, Cora & Skylar) had gathered together around Nana. We held hands and hugged and cried and watched as Nana slowly slipped away. She was full of peace. It was about 2:20pm on Saturday, April 23, 2016. Gwen came running in at the last moment, grabbing Nana's hand and sobbing. 

I left to go hug my kids, who were watching a movie next door, and to tell them that Nana was gone. Cora wanted to see Nana, so we went together with Silas, whom I held in my arms as Cora approached Nana's bed and rubbed the blanket over her leg. [update: Nana's obituary is online here.]

The rest of the afternoon we spent sitting in Nana's living room, telling stories and talking through the details of what would happen when the caretakers came, what would happen to her apartment, what she wanted for her memorial. At 5pm I left with the kids to go pick up Nate at the Burlington airport. He had driven a rental car all day from the Philly airport after getting through customs. That night many of us went to bed early, but some of us stayed up for a game of Rage, the family card game. Wine and friendly insults were flowing; life and traditions were going on.

On Sunday we all met at Nana's apartment to start cleaning it out since so many of us were there. At noon, Nate and Mandy and I took the kids to the St Albans Maple Festival and parade, which was happening just up the street from the Homestead. It was sunny and cool out, and there were people everywhere. Life was happening. 

Driving a tractor at the Festival

Carousel horses at the Festival

Later we went to meet Lyric, Mandy's horse, and Skylar toured us around the barn. Cora even got to ride on Lyric.

Riding in the arena; Skylar took this photo

The kids learned how to groom Lyric after the ride: 

Learning to "read" a horse's ears

We stayed in Vermont until lunchtime on Monday so we could see my parents, who arrived at 9:30am that morning. Two cars of us went to meet them at the airport; first, I introduced Uncle Rob to Rise & Shiner sandwiches at a downtown BTV hole-in-the-wall deli. 

Requisite visit to the Harley Hutch

We drive home that afternoon after a lot of family hugs.