The Meaning of Life

Well, it's been an interesting couple of days. We went to Roseburg to visit Mike's parents. While we were down visiting, a dear friend of the family passed away, Penny Gerking. It brought into sharp focus the transitory nature of life. You never know when someone who is close to you will be gone forever. It makes you stop and think about things.

Penny was a beautiful, grandmotherly type of a woman. She had befriended Maia, our daughter, a few years ago at our church. Penny volunteered as a teacher in the children's religious education program as well as sang in the church choir. She was always generous with her spirit and was always happy to see us, particularly Maia.

She and Maia became better aquainted when they became Lighthouse Pals, an interegenerational activity at our church - something along the lines of Secret Santas, but designed to bridge the gap between the generations and foster stronger connections within our church community. Every week they would exchange notes and gifts and try to guess who their Lighthouse Pal was. Maia would be delighted with the little notes and presents Penny would leave her. One in particular was a crown made of streamers and this became Maia's favorite thing. We kept it safe so it wouldn't get ruined in the kids' rooms. I think Maia still has it hidden in one of her treasure boxes.

Penny's death was out of the blue. Well, not entirely. Penny's family kept the church community aware of what was transpiring after Penny's initial stroke, subsequent coma, and final passing. But it happened in the span of a week or less. A blink of an eye, really.

And then we were in Roseburg, hanging out with my in-laws. It occured to both Mike and myself that Kay and Marilyn won't always be around, that one of these visits might be the last one of its kind. That's kind of sad, really. I have always enjoyed my visits to Roseburg. Kay always cooks me my favorite foods, although this trip there was a decided lack of buffalo steak. I enjoy Kay's diatribes. They are entertaining and educational. All his kids have heard them before, so he seems to enjoy the fact that he has a willing audience in me. This visit presented me with the topic "The Tomato Garden Theory of Child Rearing". Strange as the topic may sound, Kay is a bright man and he has some compelling theories on life.

Marilyn is such a wonderful source of comfort for me. I can call her and talk to her about my problems and she listens carefully and gives me sage advice. I love the fact that she can fall asleep in the middle of a maelstorm and won't even bat an eye. I wish I could sleep through most things. She bakes really lovely pies, too. I think between her and Kay's cooking I gained two pounds while we were visiting.

It will be sad when things change for our visits, but we know that at some point they will. It is inevitable. So we did the best we could to enjoy the time we had while we were there. We'll try and make it down more often, now that we have a reliable car to drive.

When we came home, or rather a day after we came home, my grandmother collapsed in the home she's staying at. She was rushed to the hospital where my mom and dad met her. Her blood pressure was unusually low and they suspect she suffered a TIA. She's still in the hospital and the doctors still don't know what's going on with her.

I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, I love my grandmother very much. On the other hand, she's 92 and has Alzheimer's. I know that the grandmother that I know doesn't exist anymore. This is just the body of my grandmother - still deserving of love and attention, but just not the same person she was. She is incapable of being that person and I have come to terms with that.

But I feel for my parents, who are the primary ones to take care of her. They visit her frequently at the assisted living facility and they make sure that all of her needs are being met. They really do take good care of Grandma, and I know that it's hard on both of them, particularly my father. It's his mother who is gone and still there.

So what do I hope the outcome of Grandma's hospital stay? It's hard to say. I don't want to have to say good-bye to someone I love very much, but at the same time, she's slipping further and further into her dementia and it's taking its toll on my parents, whom I also love.

Why does life bring us so close to one another that we can hear each other's heartbeat only to snatch it away, leaving only the faint trace of the connection in the void left between us? Why must one go quickly while another lingers, transformed into something unrecognizable? Both losses hurt.

Whether or not we like it, no matter its form, death does come. But life wouldn't be as virdent and meaningful if we kept our distance in order to avoid the end of life loss. We must connect and love otherwise we grow cold as stone and our own soul dies long before our flesh. We risk the loss at our first embrace, but I would have it no other way. I have grown knowing my grandmother and loving her. I have grown knowing Penny and loving her. I have grown knowing both my grandfathers, knowing Donna Frisk, knowing Cheryl Kreibl, and loving them all.