August 30,
The Chef's birthday. We celebrated by leaving at midnight, and driving through the night to Nebraska. The Chef drove to Ogallala, and I drove from there to the ranch. We made it to Mom’s house by breakfast.
The morning agenda was to sell a herd of cattle. These were old cows, and we had to round them up, sort the calves off of their mothers, and prepare the loading chute for the semi-truck. We were ready long before the trucks arrived, and Dad and Mom immediately began pulling weeds. Horse weeds in Nebraska grow as tall as six to eight feet tall. These weeds completely blocked the corrals, and you couldn’t even see the fences past the weeds. Because of the sand, the weeds pulled out easily, and I must say it made me feel like I had superhuman strength as we pulled out thick weeds easily.
The Chef and Cody rested on the pickup bed, their allergies acting up from the thick pollen. The cows loaded easily, and all were on the truck out of the ranch by eight-thirty in the morning. We napped, I drove the swather for an hour and a half while Cody ate lunch, and then we hung out. We rustled a cow, accidentally of course, and had to take the cow and her calf back to their pasture. We chased and treated a sick calf, who showed signs of dust pneumonia.
Instead of a cake, Mom made The Chef spudnuts (doughnuts) for his birthday, I think we all appreciated that!
August 31, 2007
In the afternoon, The Chef washed Grandma’s windows, while Dad and I chased the calves back in. They jumped the fence in the morning, and they were all out, so we had to saddle up our horses and chase the calves down. In the afternoon, two more had escaped, this time swimming through the water trough to their freedom. Dad and I spent time around the headquarters, fixing the feedwagon to dispense minerals and caked oats, and I washed out our galvanized steel horse trailer with a power washer. Tiny flecks of manure flew all over me, and within minutes I knew I was caked with manure molecules.
I saw Grandma this afternoon. It was hard to see her, as she was refusing to talk, and couldn’t seem to swallow. Grandpa and Aunt Tammy were talking to her, coaxing her to swallow another mouthful of water, or to swallow her pills. It would take five or six minutes to get her to swallow. While it looked like she was being difficult, rebellious by not swallowing, what she was really doing was struggling to make her mind remember how to swallow.
I walked in, and bent down to kiss her. “Hi Grandma! I like you new set of wheels!” She had just gotten a wheelchair from town. Grandma opened her eyes and looked up at me, and said, “Hi, Amy.” In her weak and quavering voice. Grandpa started to tear up, “You just made our day, Mother.” I guess she hadn’t spoken yet and having the strength to open her eyes and remember my name was a huge accomplishment. But I learned later, that Grandma was a great faker. When someone came over, she would rally, put up a happy, strong face, and pretend she felt much better than she was.
It was so hard to see her, tiny, her clothes hanging off of her frame, and her cheeks chubby from steroids. I kept choking back tears, and my nose started running of its own accord. Tammy asked me if I was all right, and I said it was the pollen that was getting to me, but really, seeing my grandma like that was miserable. We were all helpless. Grandpa started crying when Tammy wheeled Grandma into the master bedroom, and seeing my dad embrace him and offer his strong shoulder as a comfort was heart breaking.
September 1, 2007
We ran all of the calves into the corrals this morning, working them, giving them shots, deworming them, and branding the slicks. After working the calves we all went inside to have pie with grandma.
In the afternoon I ran the swather on the Moon pivot, cutting down the Millet. I drove the tractor all afternoon, listening to the radio, NPR and an occasional country station that flicked on and off. When Cody came out to relieve me, it was already dinner time and The Chef met us with freshly grilled steaks, baked potatoes, and fresh tomatoes picked out of mom’s garden. My husband cooking dinner for my dad and I was odd, it seemed that somehow we had a role reversal thing going on, since I was hot and sweaty from working in the fields. We’re an odd couple, that’s for sure, but The Chef's cooking sure helped us out that weekend, as yesterday Mom had to drive into town to pickup a wheelchair for grandma, and today she was driving to Rapid City to pick up Aunt Sherry from the airport.
September 2, 2007
It was Sunday, and The Chef and I hustled to get packed up and leave the ranch. Before we left, we stopped in at Grandma’s to say goodbye. Grandma was still in bed, and we talked with Aunt Tammy and Aunt Sherry for a few minutes before they told me to go into grandma’s bedroom and tell her goodbye. Grandma was laying on her side of the bed, her body propped up with pillows, with her back to me.
“Hey Grandma,” I said, leaning over. “Good morning! It’s Amy.” I saw that her bright blue eyes were open. “You can’t see me, can you?”
She made a sound in her throat indicating that she couldn’t, so I leaned further over the bed and gave her a couple kisses on the cheek. “I’m headed back to Denver. Rama and I have to get back so he can work tonight. So I’m saying goodbye, but I’ll be back on Thursday to finish cutting the hay.” I kissed her again, wishing I didn’t feel so awkward.
“I love you, Grandma.”
“I love you, too.” Grandma said, her voice coming out surprisingly strong.
“Really?” I said, shocked that she could talk to me. “Thanks! I mean I love you. I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you again in a few days, Ok?”
“I love you.” She repeated, and in my memory I can’t remember if she said, I love you too, twice, or if she said my name at the end.
I left the room, tears in my eyes, but so happy that she was talking to me, and that she once again seemed to know exactly who I was. I felt hope. I felt loved. That was the last time I saw my grandmother alive, as two mornings later she died in my grandpa arms.
September 5, 2007
Well, I'd like to continue to ask everyone for prayers for my and my family. We've all been praying for my grandma to be healed or to be taken away to heaven where she wouldn't be in pain. This last week was terribly painful for her, and we could see her getting weaker and weaker. Yesterday morning, after my Grandpa spent the whole night praying for God to take away her pain, he kissed her good morning and told her that he loved her. My grandma groaned a little in agreement, and then, while cradled in my grandpa's arms, passed away.
I'm grateful that my grandma is no longer in pain, and is now in heaven with her Heavenly Father. The funeral will be next week (probably Monday or Tuesday) in American Falls, Idaho. The Chef and I'll be staying in Denver this week, working, and then will probably take all next week off to be with our family. Be praying for us all and specifically for me (you all know how I like to stuff my feelings and "tough" it out) and my Great Grandma Ella who is 97 and in a nursing home in Am. Falls. She is having a horrible time with her daughter's death as you can imagine. Please be praying for us all to be at peace with Grandma's loss.
