Tuesday my dad texted me saying he would be in Peoria until Friday for work, but that he should be home for us to come over Friday night. I got this message after soccer practice and drove home like I always did. Dropping off Payton first, and then going to my house. Josue didn’t have a game either that night, so he came over for a little while.
While we were sitting on the couch watching tv, my dad texted me at 8:30 saying, “If you can say a little prayer for Grandma Demeter tonight and tomorrow. She is in the hospital for a couple of days for observation and some tests.” I just replied okay and asked why. He said he didn’t know, and neither did they. That was the reason the tests were being performed. I prayed quickly to myself, but dismissed it. When my mom walked in the room a little later I told her about the text my dad had sent me. I didn’t know why it was hard to re-read to her. But fear and uncertainty struck my body. If it were for multiple days, something must be wrong.
I always sleep with my phone on my bed and subconsciously check it in the middle of the night. Sometimes I even reply to messages in my sleep. I woke up around 6am, an hour earlier than my alarm, and read this text message from my dad, “They are not sure what is going on with grandma, but they just left Mt. Pleasant by ambulance to take her to Iowa City.” I also had a missed call from my Aunt Michelle.
I tried, but I had an unsuccessful attempt at getting my other hour of sleep. I forwarded the text to my mom, who later came into my room and asked if I knew what was going on and if I was okay. I stopped fighting it and eventually got up and got ready for school. I am not one to get on facebook, or start my lap top in the morning. But this morning I logged on and posted on Team CILT, asking my fellow Camp Tecumseh CILTS from the summer of 2010 to pray for my grandma. Before leaving for my health careers class, I texted my dad to ask if they knew what was wrong, but he said they still weren’t sure and that she is in the icu area. I also asked if he was going there and he said it depends what they say that morning.
I told my friend Laci when we were in the parking lot after class. Again, I found it really hard. Just as it had been telling my mom. I kept it on my mind all day. After school was out I texted my dad, but he hadn’t heard anything and just told me good luck in our soccer game tonight. I know he was upset that he couldn’t be there for it.
I don’t even remember if I told him how it turned out. But he gave me the number to the ICU department of the hospital and suggested I call my grandma and tell her about my game. I wasn’t sure that was such a good idea, so I questioned it. But again, he told me to. I often talked to my grandma on the phone, but I feared this time it would be different on her end. After mustering up the courage, I called and asked to speak to Ms. Demeter. The man asked me to please hold on and was replaced with quiet music. After a few minutes, he returned and said she was asleep so I said thank you and goodbye.
I told my dad she was asleep and didn’t speak to him again until he called on Thursday. After practice I was tired, and went downstairs to try to sleep. I usually sleep well because it is dark, quiet, and cold enough to snuggle up under the big soft blankets coated in dog hair. But I just couldn’t fall asleep. My phone rang at 7:45. It was my dad calling. He told me that things just weren’t looking well for my grandma and that he was on his way over there. He asked if I would take Maria to the daily chapel at my church to light a candle and say a prayer. I said yes as the tears swelled up, flooding my eyes. He asked if I would rather him tell my siblings and I said yes. I walked upstairs and found my sister. I knew my dad had called, she was just as upset. And Michael was on the phone as I walking in the room.
Maria and I left for church, both crying. I took a lone dollar that was sitting in the cup holder of my car and we walked into the daily chapel. Maria lit one of the tall candles. Then, we went to the second row of chairs and kneeled. The blue chairs all have plaques on the back with names on deceased members of our church and our families. Our brother, Matthew’s happened to be one of the ones we kneeled behind. We fell to our knees, folded our hands, and opened our hearts. We prayed quietly. I was reminded of the night my dad and I went to the exact spot to pray for my grandpa Demeter. Maria and I finished and quietly left.
I texted my dad saying I loved him and telling him to drive safely. He called me back and said he was still on his way, but that my Aunt Christine who was there called him and said things just don’t look good and that she may be on her way to be with my grandpa soon. I cried and cried and finally my mom found me in my room. She asked me if there was more that I knew, but there wasn’t. She gave me some medicine and I calmed down and went to sleep.
I woke up in the middle of the night with a bad headache. I went to the medicine cabinet in the kitchen, but there was no Excedrin to be found. I got my mom up, but she couldn’t find any either. I knew it was going to happen. It always does when I cry before bed. She laid down with me, placing a washcloth on my forehead, and rubbing my back until I finally fell back asleep.
My dad had texted me at 3:17am, wishing me a happy birthday. Evidentially he must not have been sleeping well either. When I woke up to get ready for school I texted him back thanking him and telling him I love him. I received a reply saying , “Grandma is here still with us. She is not doing well.” I also had a text from my aunt asking to stop and say a prayer for my grandma. She didn’t even mention anything about it being my birthday. But later in the day I found that I preferred it that way.
I asked my dad if they knew what was wrong yet, and he just said no, but that her body is very very sick. I tried to get ready for school, and I tried to act happy when my family wished me a happy birthday. But really all I wanted to do was cry. My mom had decorated the kitchen in streamers and balloons. But I didn’t not feel it was a time to celebrate. It had been a rough night. There were 4 cards laid out at the end of the table. I opened the one from my mom and Dan and a present they bought me. The card had money and the present was a TOMS shirt. But I couldn’t continue with the rest of the cards. I was going to wait until later in the day. When this all passed and I could show my gratitude.
As I walked in to my health careers class, I found that like my family, my friends were eager to wish me a happy birthday. They sang to me and asked me to please cheer up and smile. None of them knew. I didn’t want it to be my birthday. I wanted to be able to be quiet, and hide in the background.
It was a Friday, so after 30 minutes of class we were headed to the developmental preschool. My friend Laci put her arm around me and asked me what was wrong. But I couldn’t answer. It was even harder than the other times. She tried to guess, but didn’t ever say the right thing. I wanted her to know, but I couldn’t say it.
I got into my car and read this text from my dad, “I have told grandma that you love her. She was so proud of all three of you.” I tried my best to not let any of my classmates see me as they pulled out. I didn’t want them to see the steamy face streaked with tears.
When we got to Even Start, I felt even more separated from everyone. They had all been the week before when I stayed home sick. I stuck beside my friend Hannah and followed her like a shadow. Even though I tried to play it cool, my friends could tell I was upset. But eventually I lived in the moment and found reasons to smile and to laugh. These included when a little girl grabbed my hand as we walked outside for the fire drill, watching a little boy named Joseph play, getting a hug from a girl named Addy, and singing along with the kids. Joseph had blue glasses that were similar to goggles, besides the lenses of course. He was a wild man on the scooter and bike, flying around the gym in circles and crashing often. Then, he got in the black pick-up truck that runs with the movement of little feet and drove around. We loved watching him turn and look out the back window as he reversed, just as a real driver would do.
When we left I was the last one to pull out of the parking lot. There was no where I really wanted to be besides with my dad, and especially I did not want to go to school. I saw another girl from my class clasp her hands over her mouth and wipe her eyes before she pulled out. I wasn’t that close to her, so I debated for a while whether I should knock on her window and make sure she was okay or just go. I decided to send her a facebook message instead. After seeing her, things didn’t seem so bad. I had no reason for an outburst of tears, and suddenly forgot my own sadness that was lingering over my birthday.
At school I always had a big smile on my face when I got to walk with Josue to third period, but I couldn’t even bring myself to look him in the eye. He understood without any words. As the day went on, I went through my classes like normal, with an occasional class bursting in song, wishing me a happy birthday. This also happened at lunch when we shared the cupcakes my friend made our table. I didn’t want any of the attention, but even more I didn’t want anyone to suspect something was wrong so I went along with it all. Eventually, I became a little more comfortable and a little more focused on school. I even smiled a few times, including walking with Josue later in the day. Although I was very upset at one point when my friend asked me what I was doing tonight-and which parent’s house I was at. I knew I was supposed to be at my dad’s, but that he was in Iowa and I wouldn’t be going to his house. But I didn’t want that to be the case, I wasn’t accepting of what was going on in any way. I just answered her saying I’m not really sure as I tried to contain myself.
I had been checking my phone and bringing it to some classes with me. But I still hadn’t heard anything else from my dad. It was seventh period, yearbook. I finally had made it to the end of the day, and luckily no one in this class even knew it was my birthday. My phone vibrated a few times and I was hesitant, but I checked it. It was my cousin Jacqueline wishing me a happy birthday. Then at 2:43 pm, it vibrated a few more times than the last time. I pulled it out and saw my dad was calling me. I couldn’t answer it. Not because this of the school’s cell phone policy-this was actually the one class I could get away with it. But because I was scared it was going to be a call similar to one I received from him in eighth grade when my Grandpa Demeter passed away. He left me a voicemail. I sat staring at the clock in the bottom right hand screen of my computer. I texted Josue saying that I was scared and that my dad had called me. But he didn’t have his phone on him. I was hot inside of my jacket, but cold and sweaty and shaky. Finally, the announcements came on and the final bell rang.
I brought the pink slip I received to the office and they traded it for a bouquet of flowers sent from my mom. I then gathered my backpack, practice bag, and vase of flowers. I was struggling to carry them all. Then I went to Josue’s locker, but I couldn’t look at him again. We walked down to the locker room. I almost asked him to wait while I listened to the voicemail, but I couldn’t. He left and I went inside the girls locker room.
I set my flowers and bags down in the corner on the side where Hannah and I always changed. Then I took my phone out of my pocket and watched as the red light flashed, letting me know I had a voicemail. I listened to my dad talk in an upset voice asking me to give him a call. I tried to brace myself, anticipating what he was going to tell me. I figured I couldn’t cry anymore-I had already enough during the week. Plus I had myself convinced that when we kept a dream journal for my psych class just a few weeks before and I had dreamed that I was at a family reunion and I was crying, it was because they had served cantaloupe which made me think of my Grandpa. And even though the ship my Grandma was on had sunk, she had survived and was on her way to the reunion. I knew that my Grandma was strong and that she could overcome whatever had sent her to the hospital.
When I called at 3:11pm my dad he was crying, and immediately hot tears flooded my eyes and rolled down my face onto my new TOMS tshirt. My dad told me that my Grandma had passed away and was no longer with us. He told me he wasn’t sure when the funeral plans would be, but sometime next week. I couldn’t say anything, all I could do was cry. I said goodbye and we hung up. Then I turned to my best friend Hannah who was waiting for me with wide arms. She held me and let me cry. And I was able to tell her what had just happened. I know that more people looked at me, but I didn’t see any of them as I walked out of the locker room. Hannah walked with me, her arm wrapped around my sorrowing body. I asked her what I should do about practice, if I should go over to the field and tell my coach. But she said not to worry about it, she would take care of it. I called Maria and told her I was by the car. Hannah waited with me until Maria came out. Then, she hugged me again and went back to the locker room. My friend Sarah was in the parking lot and came running over, but stopped when she saw our tears. She hugged Maria, but I couldn’t even look at her.
Maria and I drove home, crying the whole way and holding hands. When we got home, Michael and my mom were also home. The three of us hugged each other and cried. I didn’t want to be alone, so I followed Maria into her room. Michael came soon after. We sat on her bed and continued to cry. My sister had an appointment with her counselor, whom we had all been to for various reasons. My mom asked us if any of us wanted to go, but there was no way I was going to talk to her-especially about this. Instead, my mom went.
I opened the rest of my cards and presents later which included money, a new wallet, a necklace, and a north face. I can’t recall if I ate dinner or not, but I don’t think I did. I just wanted the sadness to go away, but I didn’t know how to make that happen. I was too sad to do anything, and too much in disbelief.
I also looked at my facebook. It was always an exciting time, when you receive many many notifications, sometimes from unexpected people, or ones you have been out of contact with. But when I scrolled through the birthday posts on my wall, all I could do was cry. And think to myself, this is not happy and this is not wonderful and this is not spectacular. In fact, I might dare to say it is the opposite. And I cried knowing that this sad, upsetting death was on a day that was supposed to be one of the best days of my year. I guess birthdays always have been a little overrated anyways.
Finally, around 9pm we went to my dad’s. He had driven home to get clothes because he only had his work ones with him for the week since he was staying in Peoria, and I like to think partially to see me on my birthday. Even though it was going to hit me all over again, and even harder this time, I wanted to be with my dad. I wanted to be there for him and him for us.
We sat in the family room for a while, staying close together and letting the tears fall. It was a hard, sad, quiet night. Also during this time my dad got a card from the kitchen table and gave it to me. He said he was sorry that he didn’t have a cake for me, but I did notice he had drawn a cake on the envelope with 18 candles. I more than understood. Even though it is a little selfish, I was hoping to still receive two cards at his house. I was hoping, by some sort of luck, that my Grandma had got one put in the mail for me before she went in the hospital. She always had a card for each of us one our birthday. But I had no such luck. Again, I more than understood. But I still wished.
I’m not sure how I managed to calm down enough to get some sleep. But I eventually did. I went to bed that night one year older, but without a big piece of me and my family.
I still wish I wouldn’t have passed up the opportunities I had to spend with her. Less than a month before, my dad asked us if we wanted to go with him for Labor Day weekend. We were with my mom, and I had lots of plans- our family was coming up, we were celebrating my Grandma Ludwig’s birthday, and I was spending the night at Depauw with my friend. As much as I wanted to go to Iowa and see my family and go to Old Threasers, I passed up the opportunity. One that I would go back and trade anything for. Also, this summer we were supposed to go. But we convinced my dad not to bring us. I was tired and exhausted after getting home from New England and didn’t want to spend more time away from Cville, and miss more soccer practices. Even though later I found out it was moratorium week and I couldn’t practice anyway. Later, I had talked to my Grandma on the phone and she hoped we would come out another week in the summer and spend it with her-and we could even go shopping.
Since I have been born, I have made frequent trips to Iowa-especially during the summer. Even when my friends and I get together and recall old memories, the ones I don’t remember it’s often due to “oh ya-you were in Iowa Maddy.” I’m not even sure when the last time I had been to Iowa was-possibly at Easter if it was a year I was with my dad. It had been the longest time period I had been without going to Iowa and seeing my cousins and aunts and uncles and my Grandma. Now, I would give anything to go back and take both opportunities to visit her. It had been the longest stretch of time since I had seen her, and now I have to wait much, much longer until I am with her again.
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