006: Grandma's First Anniversary

My grandma died 365 days ago on January 10, 2013. She was 102 years wise. 

It's hard to believe that I'll never be with her again. That I'll never hold her or be held by her. Death and memories can be all consuming. 

But thanks to her I have a most wonderful treasure that makes this date a beautiful day. She wrote a journal for me with thoughts, poems, and sayings. 

At midnight as the day switched to January 10th, I grabbed it, closed my eyes and held it tight. I then went to open it but my chest got tight and my eyes started tearing. I set it aside, I grabbed her memorial momento and kissed it. I wiped my tears, grabbed it again and opened it to this entry, dated August 5th:

GOZAR UN DIA FELIZ

Todos podemos hacer cualquier cosa por un dia. 

Solo por hoy, olvidemos el miedo a la vida, a la muerte que es la sombra de vivir con miedo, a ser felices, a gozar de la belleza de una noche iluminada por la luna, a creer y pensar en lo mejor. 

Solo por hoy olvidemos el ayer, el mañana, sin tratar de resolver de una vez, todos los problemas de la vida cotidiana.

Lincoln dijo, "un hombre es tan feliz, como resuelve serlo".

Hagamos la resolucion de ser feliz hoy. Acomodemos la familia, los negocios, nuestra suerte. 

Tratar de cambiar el mundo a lo que nos place es empresa muy grande, no podemos hacerlo con lo que tenemos, tratemos solo por hoy ser felices, siendo amables, complaciente, alegres, caritativos, seamos lo mejor, caminemos tranquilos, alabemos a la gente por lo que hacen, no critiquemos y asi podemos aunque sea por un dia que sea el mas feliz que hemos tenido.


Love, 
Anna Evelyn

005: I'm Free

I died on January 10, 2013, I was 102 years old. As much as I'd wanted the day to never come or on some days how much I desperately wanted the day to come, it still caught me off guard. 

I celebrated a wonderful holiday season with Christmas coming and going as it had for 101 years. Then on December 30th I felt like I was catching a cold. By the 31st I had the flu, it was reported (in the newspapers which I was still reading on the morning of December 30th) that this year's flu season was extremely aggressive and I guess in hindsight I would agree. By January 1st I was in critical care under home hospice. I barely ate or drank and slowly let my body shut down. For the first time I was more tired than scared. In June of 2012, my last "death scare", I told my daughters that if I ever fell really ill that I wanted nature to take it's course, I did not want any technological intervention. Despite their fears, they followed my wishes. There were several family members that had come into town to celebrate my 102nd birthday (which was on January 1st - I always loved being a New Year's baby...). As midnight approached, I'd been in bed most of the night but my family still brought me the cake and sang happy birthday, I was tired but happy because I was with them. January 1st was a tough day, I could barely eat or drink - it was the turning point and my family was concerned. More family started flying in and talking to me. Despite my semi-conscious state I could hear them. It is said that the hearing is the last to go and I'd agree. 

I heard every word of love. On occasion felt a warm tear on my forehead or cheek as someone leaned over to kiss me and a tear made its way to my skin. I can still remember the warmth of the tears, full of sadness and love. I would imagine reaching out and providing comfort but my body wouldn't let me. I also felt the warmth of those that held my hand, that laid next to me, that hugged me, that fixed my hair despite the situation. I heard them saying that I'd want to look good no matter my state. I heard when family and friends gathered in my room to pray the rosary - something I feel I've done a million times through the years. The serenity and familiar sound of the rosary calmed me, prepared me. I heard my last rites from a familiar voice; my priest had come to send me off in peace. I heard the whispers of those that said everything would be ok, that it was fine to let go if I was ready. I smelled the home cooking as more and more family and friends gathered to show their love. I smelled the flowers that had been sent to me and were held up to my nose as I was told who they were from and what the card said. I heard the occasional laughter as my life and my mischief were recalled. I heard beautiful music that was played in my room to help me relax. I felt the warmth when the family dogs (a mini schnauzer and a maltese) were placed on my bed as was customary when I was sick. I'd always loved dogs, especially my beloved Toti... I heard the love when those that couldn't come see me in person were put on the phone. I felt clean, the hospice caretakers knew that cleanliness was always important to me and despite my sleep-like state they always treated me with dignity and did a great job. I smelled my clothes as I was changed into fresh robes. I heard as new nurses commented on my face and my skin - I smiled inside, knowing that all those years of care had worked. I was extremely alert, my sense of smell, of touch, of hearing was magnified. But what made me realize that everything would be ok was hearing my five daughters in the same room with me (despite being motionless and unable to respond), talking, laughing - even if through tears - and together. I was transported through the years, back to when they were little, back to when they filled the house with laughter and mischief of their own, back to when my husband was alive and life was good. Back to the happiest years of my life. I think my role as a wife and a mother were my biggest accomplishments - my little girls - they blessed me with 14 grandchildren and 11 great-grandchildren - they are what made me me.

I'd like to say that this blog is not over, through the decades I wrote down my thoughts, some poems and some memories for my granddaughter Anna Evelyn. I think she will share some in this blog, she is like that. She was always so curious, asking me random questions, digging into my memory bank, recording our conversations, trying to learn about me and my experiences. I told her many times that she was very special to me, that I sensed her love for me since she was a little girl. And that I was grateful that that love grew as she grew. I'd just recently started telling her how much I loved when we took our siestas together - which we always did after a good meal!  Yes, I loved Anna but I loved all my grandchildren and great grandchildren and I know they all loved me.  

So, I am still here, I am just free. The poem below ("I'm Free") was perfectly chosen by my daughters - it was printed on the prayer cards that were issued at my service and I couldn't have said it better myself...  

Don't grieve for me for now I'm free.

I'm following the path God laid for me. 

I took his hand when I heard him call. 

I turned my back and left it all.

I could not stay another day,

To laugh, to love, to work, or play.

Tasks left undone must stay that way, 

I've found that peace at the close of day. 

If my parting has left a void,

Then fill it with remembered joy.

A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss,

Ah yes, these things I too will miss.

Be not burdened with times of sorrow:

I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow.

My life's been full I've savored much,

Good times, good friends, a loved one's touch.

Perhaps my time seemed all to brief,

Don't lengthen it now with undue grief. 

Lift up your heart and share with me,

God wanted me now, he set me free.

When I think of love, in any capacity, I cannot help but think of family. Of how families start because of love. So with that, I love you grandma, Happy Valentine's Day! Although I miss you, you will live in my heart forever. 
- Anna Evelyn - 

004: I Have Always Loved You

Anna Evelyn: Yesterday was a better day for grandma. She walked more with her walker (she is no quitter), she drank more Ensure (we have to supplement the fact that she isn't eating much), she seemed more focused with us and, what I am most happy about, she started reading again. She was in the middle of a novel and started reading it again. 


She has started coughing so we are giving her cough syrup (which she hates but we use Ensure as a chaser to we get more of it in her :-) But other than the cough she is slowly but surely improving.


After dinner, my mom, my niece Rachel and I got grandma ready for bed. We tucked her in then Rachel and I got in bed with her to cuddle then the pups jumped in (my Maltese and my mom's Schnauzer). Grandma was smiling widely. My mom was laughing from a chair near her bed. Then my bother C came to say good night and we all kissed her and promised we'd take the ruckus out and let her rest. It was about 9:30pm. 


Mom looked much better today too. As the care giver, she has a lot to deal with but today we were all happy for the "good" day. We are taking everything one moment at a time and feel blessed that things are improving. As the days pass I also feel so lucky to be part of this family. I am proud of my niece for being such a compassionate and loving teenager, for my brothers (I have two, one lives here and the other in DC) that are open to giving their love and tenderness and of course to my mom who raised us all with an infinite amount of unconditional love. Yesterday was a good day indeed...


Seeing that all was quiet and good, I got ready to leave but snuck back into grandma's room to say, "buenas noches, que sueñes con los angelitos" - "good night, sleep with the angels" (she used to say that to us when we would go to sleep, even as an adults). To my surprise she was awake. I got real close and said my good night and that I love her. Grandma turned her head to me and said, "Yo te he amado siempre" - "I have always loved you".  My heart melted and I felt blessed for the moment. 

003: The Road to Recovery

Anna Evelyn: Grandma is slowly recovering and although she is definitely happier at home, something has changed...


Yesterday we had a family dinner at my moms and grandma was not as engaged as she usually is and was just so tired. When I got to moms she was resting in bed and told me that she was going to get better and start crocheting again. She would make all of us something to decorate our tables with. Just that one sentence seemed to tire her out. I stayed with her a few minutes despite her insisting I go join everyone else. 


Later my aunt RA (who had stayed with my mom for 3 days to help settle grandma back in the house) convinced her to come out for dessert. She came to the table and had a little to eat but again was distant. She did seem to enjoy her latest great-grandchild, Ariana who is 5-months, who was dancing on the lap of one of her other great-grandchildren, Rachel, who is 14 years old. 

Taken June 24, 2012: Grandma with Ariana.

My grandma and our family have received so much love and support throughout grandma's stroke, it is humbling... 


Last night was a dinner for 8 then we had 3 friends of my mom stop by to say hi. Grandma was gracious despite her lack of energy. She sat with her visitors for a few minutes and thanked them for visiting as well as for their prayers. She got emotional saying she was so grateful for everyone's support. She assured them that with God's help she would get better soon. Then she looked really exhausted so we took her to her room to lie down. 


Once everyone had gone she had to get ready for bed so we took advantage of that moment and asked if she wanted to come out and sit for a little bit. She sat with my brother C and Rachel and said she was dying. We assured her she wasn't and that she was home, that we loved her and everything would be ok. 


Then my aunt F from New Orleans called that there was a children's show on the Spanish channel that she loved so we put it on and she watched it. My mom sat next to her and she asked her 'are you comfortable'? She engaged and watched the whole show. I think that was a breakthrough...


Yesterday I struggled on whether to keep writing this blog about grandma. I thought she'd be back to 'normal' by now. That she'd be giving me all her sassy advice on life but she is not really engaging... yet.


But I have decided to continue because I am hopeful she will get better. And I felt that stopping would be giving up on her. She told me she just wants to be like she was before this stroke and I reminded her that every stroke makes it's imprint and there was always an uphill battle to recover and she always managed to tackle it. She gave a half-hearted smile - I'll take it! 

002: The Will to Live, Love & Prayer

Grandma came home yesterday, after 11 days of being in the hospital then 3 days of being in a nursing home (mainly for observation as she transitioned into hospice care). It was a pretty terrifying journey for her and for us that love her.

On June 8th she was admitted into the hospital with high blood pressure and a little dehydration (nothing new...). A day and a half later "something" happened to her at 2am on Sunday, June 10th. I am still not sure what it was but I think it was a stroke of some sort. The countless doctors and tests that were done on her were painful to watch.

Initially, no one could wake her. We had no response from her for a day and a half but we were convinced that she could still hear us. Those of us that live in S. Florida spoke with her and touched her and my niece and I would take turns napping with her in her hospital bed so that she felt someone nearby. We would tell her who was calling to wish her well, about flowers that were being delivered, about prayer chains that had been started (locally, in New Orleans, New York, Italy, Columbia, Haiti and in her home country of El Salvador) and reassuring her that we would be there by her side.

By Monday afternoon my brother E (who flew in from DC) went to see her. She and my brother share a mischievous nature and she had recently been asking when he was coming to visit. He sat next to her bed, spoke to her, joked with her, held her hand and kissed her head. As he was talking to her, her eyes shuttered open, barely but we'd made a connection. Over the next couple of hours she opened her eyes and although they made no specific eye contact it was an improvement from her "sleeping" state and we were elated. That evening my Aunt F arrived (flew in from New Orleans where most of our family lives) and she also spoke with her, doted on her and grandma started tearing. Another break though - an emotional reaction...

In the early hours of Tuesday two more aunts (RM and E) and two of my cousins arrived from New Orleans. They too spoke to grandma, caressed her arms, kissed her and let her know they were there and that many people were wishing her a speedy recovery and praying for her. Later that day another breakthrough, she started making brief eye contact and was starting to respond to comments and questions. She had a very hard time speaking and swallowing but she was slowly coming back. This was the beginning of an extremely emotional roller coaster for all of us, especially grandma who until a few days ago was an active centenarian. She would cry (then we would cry), she kept saying she was going to die but that she didn't want to die, that she was scared. The days passed with a code being called (but cancelled due to the DNR), with grandma crying and unable to communicate well, with grandma becoming aware that she was not in control of her body anymore, with final good byes, with last rites (first time she had every received last rites) and with blessings and thanks from grandma to all of us....  

Then came more tough decisions... On the first day that grandma went to the hospital  (and her previous visits too) she signed a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate). She did not want to be kept alive artificially or with machines. As the days moved on and her condition remained critical, her daughters (all five) agreed to home-hospice care. Grandma always wanted to die at home (preferably in her sleep and certainly without pain). Hospice care allows people to die naturally, with dignity and in our case with a loving family. Just being faced with hospice was such a tough realization. Grandma was critical and we knew that she would not want to be prodded and poked through her last day. We witnessed the pain in her face as blood was taken or she was moved for x-rays or cat scans, the testing seemed endless and most often pointless.

With all the paperwork signed, grandma left the hospital. She was moved to a nursing home (appalling to us all - we had a very bad perception of nursing homes - but it was the only hospice facility available near my mom's house - my mom is her guardian). She went there for observation and while we cleared her room for the hospice equipment needed. By this time, Grandma was communicating and slowly recovering (she was acutely aware of her condition and surroundings). The next morning when I saw her she told me "I'm not crazy, why am I in an asylum?", We assured her that it wasn't an asylum and that she was there for a few days and would be going home soon - she didn't believe us. I took her around the facility in her wheel chair, she would stretch her neck to catch a glimpse of people's rooms then we went past the activity room and I sped by. Then I reminded myself that grandma is a pretty tough cookie. I asked her if she wanted to go check out the activity room and she said yes. It had about 8 or so elderly people, some seemed to be asleep, some looked at her and one had a baby doll in her arms. Grandma wanted no part and told me to take her back to her room. 

The nursing staff was incredible, they bathed and dressed her in clothes - no hospital robes during the day (cleanliness and appearance are very important to my grandma), they allowed grandma to be independent but also knew when she needed help. They even allowed us to bring our small dogs to spend time with grandma (my mom's Schnauzer and my Maltese were able to visit). She had a routine and was more active (sitting, moving around in the wheelchair, going to the little garden for fresh air and being taken to a real bathroom (no more bed pans or commodes - she hated those).

Yesterday when she realized she was being taken home she cried. She hadn't cried since she'd gotten to the nursing home (not in front of me), she had told me that she had no more tears left but the emotion of going home made her cry. She has always been scared of dying in a hospital (and I guess, recently, of dying in an "asylum") and now she was going home. I was waiting for her at my mom's house. She was brought in by the paramedics and immediately started to cry again saying she never thought she'd be back home. It was such a wonderful moment; we (her will to live and all the love and prayers) had brought her home.

She was gently put in a wheelchair by the paramedics as she cried. We took her to see her "remodeled" room and then to the dining room for tea and cookies (her sweet tooth is definitely back). Thankfully she did not have any loss of movement in her body. We  are focused on getting her energy back but she wants to focus on using her legs :-) And we are all going to church to thank God, St. Jude, St Francis and the countless other saints we prayed to. She also wants to write thank you cards to everyone (she's definitely coming back :-)

Anna Evelyn: Having seen grandma go through this critical episode, I realized that she still has so much to say and express. I hope to capture her thoughts and I pray that she stays  a bit longer :-)

001: My Name is...

Taken Nov 25, 2010 at my granddaughter's house.

Well, technically... my name is Ana Maria Chavez de Henriquez. I was born on January 4, 1911 in Sonsonate, El Salvador. But I never liked "Ana Maria" so have always been known as "Rosa Maria". And regarding my birthday... well isn't January 1st a much more exciting birthdate?

I am a widow and have five daughters, 14 grand children and 12 great grand children. My co-blogger is my granddaughter, Anna Evelyn (she blogs inconsistently under What I Think Is Beautiful), she was my first grand daughter and dotes on me (as most of my grand and great grand children do :-). In the tradition of family name changes, she is actually Ana but preferred two Ns so has been Anna since she was a teenager - which was awhile ago but shhhhh :-)

I am 101 years old so who knows how long I will be here so please join me in my beautiful centenarian chapter of life...

Anna Evelyn: So, all of my life I have thought grandma's birthday was on January 1st... within the last year, I was admitting her to the hospital and while my mom arrived I had to check her in. I looked pretty silly as the granddaughter not knowing her real name or real birth date! And with grandma there she kept insisting on "Rosa Maria" and 1-1-1911 as her birth date, I finally called my mom who said try Ana Maria and Jan 4, 1911... my grandma, always full of surprises!