The white curly hair and warming simile that radiated for miles. Her genuine touch that always gave me warmth and goosebumps for seventeen years. I will never forget her laughter that brought life to a dull room. Playing cards for hours and losing most of the time never brought boredom. Seeing a familiar and warming face for years that suddenly turn to pale with no liveliness changed my life forever.

Grandma Bauer had been having health problems for about seven months before she passed away. My mother and aunts would take her to the doctor every two weeks for tests to find out what was wrong with her. The tests came back time after time saying that grandma’s hemoglobin was low, but the doctors could never actually find out why. Grandma would always say, “I just don’t feel good.” And she would always seem sluggish with no energy.
It felt like a regular Wednesday school night. I got home from work around six o’clock and found it weird that my mother still wasn’t home. I knew that my mother had to take Grandma to a doctor appointment earlier in the morning, but it was strange that she wasn’t home yet. When my mom finally came home she seemed to have some fear in her eyes, but nothing too concerning. She explained to my sisters and I that grandma never woke up from the anesthesia and that Uncle Al was going to say at the hospital until she wakes up.
Later in the evening around nine o’clock we got a call from Uncle Al saying that grandma might not wake up from the anesthesia, and that her lungs were filling up with fluid. Mom bursted into tears uncontrollably and I felt sick to my stomach. My mom, dad, my three sisters, and I head off to the hospital that night.
Grandma was at St. Francis Hospital in the critical care unit. When we approached the hospital doors, my mother had to buzz in. When we entered the hospital, I noticed that the security guard was on facebook occasionally looking at the security cameras. The elevator ride to the second floor felt like years had passed.
As we got off the elevator, we approached two glass doors that read in bold words CRITICAL CARE UNIT. And then we entered another room that supposedly was my grandma’s hospital room.
When we entered “my grandma’s room” I saw a lifeless old lady with pale skin and no life to her. I thought to myself this is not my grandma. Grandma would always bring a smile to my face and have liveliness; unlike this old lady lying in hospital bed with a ventilator helping the her breath.
The room was filled with all of my aunts and uncles. I saw men who never cry with tears in their red blood shot eyes. There was crumpled tissues lying on the counter and quickly filling up the trash can. Nurses came in the room frequently to give grandma pain medication and to check her stat levels. The doctor informed my family that grandma would more than likely never wake up and that she is completely relying on the ventilator. He warned my family and I that grandma would only live for a day or two.
After hearing that news we called grandma’s priest, Father Bill, to bless grandma and say the anointing of the sick. Then my aunt Diane, asked Father Bill in a plaintive voice, “Would you be able to the mass for mom’s funeral?” Father Bill responded, “It would be my honor to do mass for your lovely mother.” I realized that soon an important person will be taken away from my life and my heart wrenched in pain.
Around midnight my mom said that my sisters and I need to go home to sleep. So we headed home and the car ride felt like a millennia had passed. When I got home I went straight to my room and laid in bed for an hour turning in my bed restlessly.
The next morning my dad called the school, notifying the school that my sisters and I would not be attending that day. The house was silent and very few words were exchanged; we ate breakfast and got changed to go back to the hospital. I knew that day was going to be the last day I saw grandma.
As I entered the hospital room, almost the entire family was there except for my cousin Shane who lived in California and my cousin Shannon who lived in Colorado. The room was filled with all different kinds of emotions; mainly sadness filled the air throughout the room besides for my little cousins who didn’t really know what was going on. The little cousins brought light into the room with their jocose behavior and child innocence.
At least two times within an hour grandma’s monitor would start beeping and nurses would come rushing into the room. And grandma would open her bright blue eyes that were the color of the ocean and then close them immediately. I wanted so desperately for grandma to keep her eyes open and have a conversation with me.
My family finally made the decision of taking grandma off the ventilator. Grandma struggled breathing on her own. As I was standing next to her bed, I saw the urine bag that was suppose to be full of a yellow color solution, but instead was filled with a tinted red color. For two hours I watched grandma struggle for air and held her fragile old hands.
Then my aunt Rosie, my two cousins, and decided to go to target to get some snacks for the family to munch on back at the hospital. We were almost done with our shopping when Rosie gets a call and I knew right there and then that grandma had died. There was a moment of silence after Rosie hung up the phone before she told my cousins and I the news.
My two cousins, aunt, and I headed back to the hospital. There was a river of tears and weeping that made my heart sink. I approach grandma’s bed and said my goodbye. I touched her hands that still had a little warmth left and kissed her forehead for the last time.
When I left the hospital on my way to grandma Bauer’s house, the sun’s rays made a glare of a cross that shined onto the windshield. And at that moment I then realized that grandma made it to the pearl gates and was reunited with grandpa after being separated for seven long years.
Spend time with loved ones, because one day their time is going to come. And that special loved one will turn pale with no liveliness and will vanish from earth in a blink of an eye. Cherish every moment with a loved one, because in an instant that loved one could be gone.