My nonna , italian for grandmother, died december 30th at a rehab/nursing home at age 83. it was early sunday, we received a few phone calls from the home: her vitals were failing and she wasn't feeling well. the 3rd call, we were told that they would put an IV in her becasue she was so weak. She seemed like she just wanted to die. The wanted to know if we wanted her to be transported to a hospital or stay there and go in peace. My father, her son, said to keep her there. they placed some meciation to the IV so that wouldn't feel any pain. the 4th call came and she was gone. I awoke to my mother telling me I have to go with my father, nonna, she was gone. I don't think I ever got up so fast and broke a hanger trying to get a pair of jeans. The IV was painful for her -she had lost so much weight and could not walk anymore.

In the past month, she had refused to eat or drink. She grew very weak and was fallng down more frequently. She was having problemis gong to the bathroom and I found myself getting frustrated with having to clean up after her. I had to show her the mess and asked jusut to be more careful next time. I;m trying to think back and trying to figure out if I was harsh with her. This is the guilty phase.

She was very weak, refusing to eat, getting sick after eating a single slice of bread and tea and taking 20 pills. She would not get out of bed and was in severe depression; she was on pills for that but did not take regularly. She had mixed her pills up horribly. Maybe we didn;t relize that she was getting old. It was hard for her to get up. one night she had been moaning very loudly. We called for an ambulance and she was taken from our home--it was the last time she would be there. she was in the hospital for 2 days and was taken to rehab to help her gain back her stenght. At first she was doing well , but slowly but surely she didn;t eat as much and did not want to get up. some days she was walking but she spent most of her days sleeping and eating very little. She was moved to the permanent floor and knew she was never coming home. She did pretty well when she took her medication for depression. she loved the fish and LOVED sugar free ice cream. She couldn't stand all the potato they tried to give to her LOL. god she hated it. I went one afternoon and we were talking as I fed her some fish and banana and i mentioned something (I can;t for the life of me remember) but she had thought I said "helado" spanish for ice cream. She asked if there was ice cream on the tray. You bet i went got some ice cream for her. It took 20 minutes for them to find one but i got one for her--chocolate sugar free ice cream. Her eye lit up. It felt good in her throat.

I would come almost every day after work, my father every day at the same time. In the last 2 weeks before she left us,she fell down. She was angry that the girls woulnd't coem in time for her to go to the bathroom. One girl came and said she would come back and never did. She coulnd't wait and fell on her knees. She fell down this past saturday again while waiting to go the bathroom. She knew she woulnd't be able to walk anymore--i think at that point she had given up. The last time I saw her was on thursday-it was a very short visit casue she was tired and didn;t want to eat her macaroni. Both my dad and I were frustrated and we asked her if she wanted to eat even a little bit. She just wanted to sleep. She had mentioned to me that her legs hurt her. This may have been when things were shutting dwon in her body, her kidneys were started to shut down and she wasn't feeling well. She had problems with her kidneys and needed dilaysis. She had refused and I don;t blame her. I wouldn't want that if I was 82. I have spent the few days having crying spouts. Just thinking back at this past year. She had been miserable and had made herself miserable. She had been in a fight with my dad, mom and her other son. My mom would always take her to apppointments and food shopping. becasue of the rift between her adn my mom, I became the one to take her food shopping. we would go every saturday but then I decided it;s better to do during the week. some days I dreaded going. it took longer when she was with me, and afer working a long day, food shopping was the last thing on my mind. but when we did go, it felt better to get it done adn she would have the complimentary coffee each time. She loved her prickly pears and would lways look at the meats. She loved tripe especialy, and would make this stew. She would call it "Mondongo" She was full blown italin but lived many years in Argentina-she would speak spanish predominetly adn loved telling me how she cooked things. I don;t think I will be food shopping at market basket anymore.

Death brings about regrets-there were many times where I;m thinking, was I harsh? It hard not to get inpatient with someone that really needed 24 hour care. the signs were there: gas was left on, pans were burnt, food was burnt, bodily functions were begining to be let go around the house. She started to fall down while putting the phone down. It was getting harder adn harder for her to walk. We told her she needed to wear diapers; at first she didn't want it she dind;t need them but finally decided to try them. I think that was the turning point in her life where she gave up, realizing, god I can't even go to the bathroom right. But in retrospect, many senoirs where diapers and go about their lives. She had been miserable all her life and was dealt with a lot of crappy things. Any one with a grandparent or a parent that was born and raised in another country in the old school matter knows people did not talk about their problems. It's too bad they did not have therpay back then--but she was hard headed. Even if they did have that back then, she would't have wanted it.

She was lways in our lives; a permanet fixture. She was very old school but did many things: I'll never forget how she helped me put bacitracin on my first tattoo. She thought it was beautiful and did not tell anyone I had one. Her and I shared a birthday and would ask why we spent the moeny on her for presents!! She was funny. She loved actions movies and westerns. She loved bonanza and the rifleman. chuck norris was great as were the rocky movies. She didn;t speak enlgish well, so action movies were easier to follow. Mister bean was also a favourite of hers as was the horrible spanish soap opera, Guadalupe. Dukes of hazzard and all those terrible 80's shows were good ones too.

This is my first blog ever, so it may seem like i;m rambling on! She died a few days ago but it seems like a lifetime. It as been great and i do feel better after writing quickly about my nonna. I will mis her mondongo, her bakala, and her stomach rubs. When my stomach would get upset she would rub it and sing this little song, which translated doesn;t make any sense, but nontheless made me feel better. If I have a child, I will do the same.I think the toughest thing will be is when I return to work; people in my department knew about grandmother. I was alwasy asked, so what are u doing tonight? I would tell them i was goin to food shopping and that my grandmother needed food. Then recently the answer would be, oh i;m visitng my grnadmother. I was always told that i was a good granddaughter. I would alwasy respond, "well no else will do anything" or when i told them im taking her food shopping i would tell them " no one else will." It was always, what will happen if i was sick, who would take her. She din;t want to go with any one else; she knew she was going with me :-)If she needed a hair cut I would take her--sometimes I wouldn't want to because I would have my own appointments but I would because again, who else will take her. And would take her to Sears or Walmart clothes shopping. I liked taking her cause it was nice to have a shopping buddy. It wasn't fair to her. I only wish she wasn't alone--my one wish for this whole thing. She didn't need to be alone. She looked so small and frail; but i touched her and covered her, moving her fingers so that they were straight. It felt wrong to take off her earrings--but i did not want them to be burnt with her. I immedietly looked at this through a medical point of view and explainig to my brother how long it take for rigor mortis to set in. I checked her skin made sure she was covered up. Being in the medical profession, I'v had many patients that I was close to expire and you do becoming immune to it unfortunatly. But it's much more devastating when it's someone in you family. I did not shed a tear until it was time to go and say good bye. This was the last time I was going to see her. We were waiting for my uncle and his fiance. The home was excellent I have to say. We came everyday so they really took good care of her. She was going to be cremated and that's when i broke down and said good bye to her. I really loved her.

She very angry with the world and her dead husband, because she was alone when he left. She blamed him for bringing her to a strange country (even thought she was the one that one wanted to come here--my uncle had moved here and told her to come)and started to become more paranoid. She had a touch of dementia but knew who everyone was and knew what was happening. She knew when my uncle didn't come for the past 2 weeks to visit her; she then told him that he needed to call her before coming up to visit her. He was on her bad list to say the least lol. That was the last conversation they had.

All in all, there is anger that goes along with grief and humans being were made to perservere. It has been a long few days and tomorrow I have to dust her furniture. We are going to take our time going through her things. I don;t know if there is heaven or hell; I have been an agnostic for a long time, so I do i think prayer is good-I don't know. Will this change my thinking on faith? I don't know. I did put in a prayer request, because there are people that believe in the power of prayer. It won't bring her back, but it does help. Maybe this will help me in looking inside myself and questioning faith all over again. There will always be problems in organized religion, but faith--something that helps people wake up in the morning and go through life itself-that is powerful.

Our routine lives change when we lose someone close to us; there will be no more "ciao nonna" when i leave for work after lunch or her footsteps when she goes to the bathroom. She would call me Lisu. I was named after her mother Elisa, but it took an enlgish twist-so i was named elizabeth. she had pet names for my brother and I; but she would call me daughter and my brother son (hija and hijo).

Through tears and pain as I ramble on and on, i realize she did the best she could with what she had. Through a terrible childhood, feeling abandoned, she was THE old school italian grandmother lol. Accent and all. Ciao nonna. te estrano, te quiero mucho. See you in heaven.