Lightening Crashes
June 18, 2000 was Father's Day.  I had spent all morning and afternoon at my Aunt Kathy's house.  My grandmother had gone into a coma two days before.   St. Joseph's Hospice had sent Shelly, a nurse, to help with Gramma.That morning I sat by my Grandmother's bed for a few hours.  I tried not to cry in the room with her, but the tears came anyhow.  I talked to her, told her things I remembered from when I was little and always at her house.  She was between consciousness and unconsciousness most of the day.  She sat up and told me she loved me.  She slowly moved her hand and put it on top of mine.  I looked at it, and couldn't believe how thin and weak her hands were.  Her fingernails were well manicured.  I had never noticed before.  It amazed me that in between radiation treatment and the doctor visits she had found the time and the will to keep her nails well kept.When she opened her eyes I looked at them closely.  She had blue grey eyes, with golden specks in the centers.   I was frustrated with myself for not appreciating how pretty her eyes were until that day.  I sat in a chair and looked at a remarkable woman.  I thought of how many lives she had touched.  My grandma was anelementary school teacher for 23 years.   She was a mother of four children, and had six grandchildren. Later in the afternoon  I drove home and took a nap.  I walked around in a numb state.   A strong, courageous woman was dying.  A woman who meant more to me than she could have ever known was dying, and there was nothing that I  could do.   Nothing. I was sitting in my room when the telephone rang.  I knew it was my mom.  She said "Gramma is going to take her last breath soon.  Come over quick." I called for my brother, and we ran out to the van.  It was pouring out.   I drove down Clairemont going 65 mph.  I could hardly see because it was raining so hard that the windshield wipers couldn't keep up.  Behind me I saw flashing red and blue lights.  I let out a scream.  I told my brother, "Maybe they can get us there faster."  The police didn't pull us over.   There was something more important to do than pulling over someone going 20 mph over the speed limit.  I slowed down for the rest of the drive to 55  mph.   The radio was on I-94.  The song "Lightening Crashes" by Live was playing.

"Lightening crashes an old mother dies,
her intentions fall to the floor.
The angel closes her eyes."

It is rather hard to drive when one is listening to upsetting music, crying, trying to see through the pouring rain, and trying to get to a house before someone dies. When we got into Kathy's house we were drenched from the rain.  We went into the room where Gramma lay.  She was having troubles breathing.  Her eyes were shut.  My family made a circle around the bed and held hands.   We prayed the Hail Mary.   It had been years since I'd said a prayer, but I remembered all the words.  As soon as we said "Amen" she stopped breathing. My Grandma had held on to life until my brother and I could be there to say good-bye.  After 20 years of cancer and remission, she passed away.    As she took her last breath, there was a lightening bolt that lit the entire room.  The thunder shook the house.  The pictures rattled on the walls.   I'd never felt such emptiness in my entire body. I kissed her forehead.  Then I went outside and sat down on the front lawn.   It was pouring and I was crying and yelling.  My dad came out and picked me up.  He said "It's dryer inside."My Grandpa sat in the big green chair.   He looked at his wedding ring and turned it.  "44 years of marriage.   I was supposed to go first."  My grandpa looked so old and frail that I cried even harder.  "I never thought I would have to fill out insurance papers on my own wife."  Grandpa is an insurance salesman.  We told him that someone else could fill out the papers, but he said it was something he needed to do.   My Grandma was a wonderful person.  She was kind and compassionate.  She fought cancer, and never let us see how much pain she was in.  June 18, 2000 there was a thunderstorm.  It was Father's Day.  It was the most difficult day of my life so far.