In Loving Memory of Verna Baker
Beloved mother of the late Alma Spier and the widow of Bill Baker
The next day, I talked to April about it and she said her mom would be happy to baby-sit my child during the day.
"She works for the last shift anyway, so it would be perfect. I'll talk to her about it later on," said April.
"Okay, great," I said.
Later, April and I both talked to her mom and she said, "Sure. I can baby-sit while you're in school. I can keep it here while you do your homework or study."
"Sure. That sounded like a great idea," I said.
I felt better on that.
A week later, Grandma Verna was admitted to the hospital again after suddenly having a stroke. She had trouble speaking and she couldn't move one of her arms. I was worried about her all day in school, and could barely concentrate on my work. Finally, it got to the point where I knew I couldn't spend the rest of the day in school without knowing how my grandmother would be. I got permission from the principal to go after my explaining my situation, and arrived at the hospital to meet Dad in the reception area.
When I got there, I asked, "How's Grandma doing?"
"She's doing better," said Dad, "Hopefully, she should be out within a few days."
I hoped Dad was right.
When I got home that day, I don't know if was the stress or maybe it was just time for the symptoms to start showing up, but everything seemed to hit me all at once: I spent about ten minutes in the bathroom feeling extremely nauseous before vomiting. And a few hours afterwards, my back started to ache. Somehow, though I don't know how, I managed to fall asleep.
At midnight, I woke up to the sound of a phone ringing. Then, I heard a voice in the kitchen, and then lowered voices. I got out of bed and ran down to the kitchen, hoping nothing else had happened to Grandma. I had a feeling it's about her.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"It's about your grandmother," said Sharon, rubbing her forehead.
"What?" I asked. "Is she okay?"
Before Sharon could answer, Dad got off the phone and came to us.
"I'm sorry, Mary Anne to break the news to you, but," he said softly, "Your grandmother passed away ten minutes ago."
"What? Are you serious?" I asked trying not to cry.
"Yes, I'm afraid," said Dad.
That was when I started crying, feeling an overwhelming sadness.
"She can't be gone. She just can't," I sobbed.
I went to hug Dad tightly. I was buried in his arms while he was comforting me. I cried for the next several minutes before going up to bed and crying myself to sleep.
The next day, I hoped it was just a bad dream. Unfortunately, I knew it was real when I talked to Dad about it.
"They're going to bring her to Iowa to be buried there since your grandfather is there," said Dad.
"Oh," I said. I looked down. "She would've been a great-grandmother for the first time if she didn't die."
"Yes, she would," said Dad, trying to comfort me. "She would've love the baby."
"When will she be moved?" I asked.
"This weekend," replied Dad.
"Am I still going to school until then?" I asked him.
"Yes," replied Dad. "You and I are going to attend her funeral."
"What about Sharon? She liked her, too," I said.
"She wanted to go, but she has to work late over the weekend," said Dad. Then, "Are you sure you'll be all right to attend the funeral?"
"I…I think I'll be okay," I said quietly.
It felt like I was losing everyone I loved in my life. Kayla…and, now Grandma. Like I said, I didn't knew Mom since I was a baby when she died. Kayla died of cancer when I was 15 and I was depressed. It happened not long after her family relocated to Maine. I have been supportive. In fact, her second anniversary is coming and I didn't think of that because I focused on making a decision.
