Last night before class I dropped the boys off at Grandma’s house. Wednesdays are the days she feeds the big kids supper before youth group. Those are the long days where they leave in the morning and don’t get home until after 9. But I’m glad they have a stop in between where they can shower and eat and have a break from “the outside”. I saw Elianna while dropping them off and said, “Hey, it wasn’t 13 hours this time.”

Dad picked them up. He was back into town a little before I was done. I texted the bigger kids and said they wouldn’t have to pick the boys up. Zorro was with the boys as well and my mother-in-law had brought his kennel into the mudroom instead of the garage since it was still very cold. It was designed as a place to get dirty where my father-in-law could come in from the fields with his farm boots and farm clothes.

On the way home I felt like I was going to die for some reason. Not in that instant, but in the future. I was thinking about how I did not want to die and how I wanted to use this education to help people. I thought, “What if this was the last half of my life, like these past 20ish years?” What if these were the years that I was given to serve others and those dreams I have had have already happened. I was hit with wild, rogue tears.

These thoughts of death seem to happen in times of grief or spiritual breakthroughs. It seems to me like it happens a lot. I told God I did not want this to be my destiny or constant fear. The boys asked me to read their Bible verses to them and I almost didn’t want to because they can do it themselves. I’d already read the part about how David was dying and they were trying to get it situated so that Solomon was the next king.

The verse was 1 Chronicles 28:9, “And you. Solomon, my son, know the God of your father and serve him with a whole heart and with a willing mind, for the LORD searches all hearts and understands every plan and thought.” Whenever I read about God knowing our hearts and our thoughts, it comforts me. Like, I don’t have to explain any of myself to him. He already knows, and he can, and will do with my life what he wills.

There was another cancellation today at Thrive. The guy who originally rescheduled for Valentine’s Day called that morning and cancelled. I was actually relieved because it meant I still had a little more time before I’d actually have to technologically navigate that clunky assessment. The one I was supposed to meet with today I’ve never met with but I know him. We were set up by the supervisor so I could get some individual hours.

Which was not exactly how I wanted getting those individual hours to go. The other person I’m seeing now is also from group. We didn’t meet last week because of the assessment that got cancelled. This week the supervisor is leaving for almost a week and wouldn’t be there on Friday. That man called last week and cancelled for snow is the one who cancelled today again. I was relieved to not have to leave the boys again.

I’d forgotten about this camp trip when I was filling out my schedule. Josh is gone. Lauren is gone. Schneipp who works at another Lutheran camp now is also gone. So I don’t like leaving them alone out here by themselves. Even more so with the dog who on rare occasions has had them come find me for incidents involving blood. The track phone wasn’t working so I called Ethan and asked if he could talk to them on Discord.

And if they needed something then they could text me. The Seward kids didn’t have school today because of the weather. It was -9 yesterday and they cancelled classes. Today it was -4 and they had classes. I guess that five degrees made enough difference. Last night Elianna and I download Discord on my phone and then added her and the boys as friends. It’s such a weird looking icon that now is now part of my home screen.

I was finally having enough angst about this group and cancellation Thrive stuff that I wrote an email last week expressing my thoughts, anxiety, and insecurity. So we scheduled a meeting to talk about it more which was yesterday. Jane and Kyle have been here a month and they already each have somebody real. Long story short, it isn’t me, it’s the way things have shaken out so far. If something is meant to be, it will come.

I had a wonderful session last night with a woman at Contact. I’ve been meeting with her for about four months and she is one I’ve regularly used for my videos. Last night I set up the camera, then thought, “You know what? I am not going to exploit this woman.” I was going to show her that I really cared about her and didn’t need to film anything. It was one of the best we’ve ever had and would’ve been perfect for my grid.

I told the boys I didn’t have to go in today. For school they made a schedule, trying to get out of doing work but also trying to eliminate the morning question, “What books are we doing for school today?” I was doing some journal writing when one of them asked, “What would we do if the water cycle was suddenly halted?” I said we’d pray to God and ask for mercy. It’s what they did in the days of Elijah or someone like that.

Getting a dog in the winter was an interesting decision. Nobody likes to be outside when it’s like this. The cats don’t like it. I don’t like it. Zorro can handle it for about a half hour and then he is over it too. Once I see him shiver then I have to let him back in. Dad is gone until later tonight after leaving on Sunday for his camp trip. He said next year it’s in South Carolina on the beach and if I was done with school we should go together.

I don’t enjoy when he’s gone. Frankly, it makes my life harder. We had this whole conversation before he left that was kind of making fun of the way I used to do things. “I’ll try not to be mad at you”, I said, joking but serious. And whether he was serious or not when he said he didn’t understand what there would be to be mad at for him going to work. I said it’s because you’re doing something fun without me.

While I am home struggling. And it wouldn’t even be so bad if I could come to you and complain about how much it sucked when you were gone. I would do that with any friend and we would listen to each other and say it sucks and move on talking about something else. But you’re not supposed to really say what you’re feeling when it comes to venting your frustrations. You’re supposed to say something like, “Hey, I miss you.”

But it wasn’t the pains of missing I was feeling. It was the pains of struggle and toil. But sharing that didn”t bring us closer, instead it drove between us an unbearable wedge. It’s unproductive to let him know how hard I had it while he was away. He’s completely different. I’ll be gone and things are fine and he will show no signs that anything was hard for him ever. I said we need to reverse this a little, balance this out.

I missed him last night and I told him. He said he was having dreams. They were in the middle of a chapel service and wouldn’t be done until 10PM. I opened up one of my three books that came in the mail. It’s like this study book package that is supposed to prepare you for NCE and CECE tests we have to take and pass. The hardest one you can take up to three times. If you fail it after that then you have to stay another semester.

“…who satisfies you with good so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.”
~Psalm 103:5~

It’s been nice reading the things that my siblings and others have written about my grandma. With one I was shaking my head, “Yes, exactly”, and with another it was like the soul equivalent of my jaw dropping as she articulated so clearly the things she remembered while listing off my grandmother’s deeds. It was the perfect description of who she was, that is, someone who was truly extraordinary.

And everything I read had all been written just as grandchildren knowing her. It was like her life exploded into ministry and opportunity. I know my grandmother was not a perfect woman. But it was as if I was (were?) immune to her flaws. They did not hurt me and cause me pain. She told me once about a time when she was confronted about something by, at the time, a close friend.

I remember one time at church she said she didn’t like the word “wretch”. She wished there was some other word you could sing in its place. She was an average housekeeper except for when there were people coming over. She had sleepovers for the single ladies at church saying that they were special and needed to be loved on. I was so used to there being people, but they were not threats.

Because however much love she had for them, it was all still getting channeled into me too. We (my siblings) were just the beneficiaries of being around these people (my grandparents) whose life revolved around being with others. It brought them joy to serve other people. I think about the lives people live these days. They go on cruises. They did that too when they would go with my aunt.

People are not replaceable. But as I was thinking again about what life is supposed to look like without her, I came to the conclusion that the only way forward was to be the person she was, but as me. Be the encourager. Be the mentor. Be the person who invites outsiders in. I cannot think of a more invigorating, vibrant way to live life. It’d be nice to travel and do all the things, but one day we will fly over the world.

I’ve been doing this every other weekend thing for about six months now. The nice thing about it is that if there’s a weekend I know ahead of time that I cannot be there, all I have to do is let them know before they make the schedule. I also get up to five days of paid time off even as PRN staff. So the time I was sick I still was paid. Next month when I’m scheduled to be gone for a weekend it’s marked as “time off”.

A few times I’ve wanted to ask if I can just do 3-7. They probably would say yes but I feel like that’s just being wimpy. Every 14 days, for 2 days in a row, I can work an 8-hr shift. I like having an established place and feeling useful for something. I have not worked the Summer wing since the summer, which is when I started this. I’m starting to think about asking to train on REACH sometime but I’m not there yet.

One of the aides this weekend asked me how long I’ve been a nurse. I was giving a resident her milkshake supplement and she was feeding supper to another. I said since 2006. And then I hesitated and said, no wait, I think it was 2008. She said I looked like I was 20 (she’s 19). I swear I will never understand how it is people can say this. The younger nurses are usually more bubbly but I seemed calm and mature.

It was 2006. I later thought about it more and realized, oh, I was right the first time. 2008 was when he graduated, not me. But I didn’t go back and tell her because at that point it was like, “Eh, what’s two years.” Same difference. And the hours went by, slower on the first day than they did on the second. A man called out from his room. Help me, oh please help me. His bedtime medicine was recently discontinued.

He was too sleepy during the day so his wife asked to change it. She called the next night, seemingly close to tears. He was calling out again and she could see him from her camera. I held his hand and he told me he loved me. I said I love you too. He had PRN Ativan which I did not realize the first night. I was standing at the cart to get it ready when she called. I told her at the end, please do not ever hesitate to call.

“…and the rest of my fellow workers, whose names are in the book of life.”
~Philippians 4:3~

Ethan and Laura changed their wedding to August 10th of this year. I’d been at complete and total peace about the later date for them. Several things went through my mind when he brought this up. The first was that this was going to make things more rushed. I don’t feel old enough to have a child who is trying to plan a wedding, finish college, and start his life. I just want so bad for things to go well for them.

Her dad already had a wedding on the 9th. So right at 22 years we’ll be repeating the process but with another generation (Lord-willing). They want to get married at camp and have the reception in the dining hall. Laura likes nice things but she doesn’t strike me as super extravagant. The CGC is already booked for the state fair group that comes and stays for two weeks every year.

So many things going on. The pull of my heart in so many directions. I feel like I’m just trying to find my footing in the world after death and rebirth. I trust the universe and all that. If I ever finish school then I have already decided that any work I do afterward will be my love offering back to God. Whatever work he’s done in me I will pass on to share with others. I feel sick and want to sleep but I carry on still while skies are calling.

Today was a pretty good day. During the full moons I tend to struggle with sleep. I tossed and turned the past few nights from around 2:45 onward until around 7 when I would wake up for the day. The other day I slept in until almost 11 and did not care to get up for any reasons. The boys were up and almost finished with school.

I’m hoping things have settled with the Contact situation. They reminded me that I’m supposed to be getting an hour of supervision every week from each site. I don’t remember hearing that and I actually think that’s a little excessive. But I talked with my supervisor and she was good about determining a more set time for us to meet.

We had a Valentine’s Day supper here. The bigger kids had an early dismissal and Elianna went over to a friend’s house to do some baking. She brought home brownies that we used for dessert. Dad had ordered a couple’s game for us to play and I picked up a card a few days ago while out at the store. I like Valentine’s Day things.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my Grandma and her life. I still am so amazed that we were able to be with her. When I think about the times we spent together when we were little, how some 30 some years later we’d be there at the end of her life, I’m blown away. It is normal for loved ones to gather around the bedside of dying family.

But I had kind of given that up, that hope, when she moved back to Florida. The likelihood of travel and family details working out gets infinitely more complicated the farther away you are from a person. When she moved again, it seemed so wrong to think that the woman who gave so much to her family would die with none of us there.

There’s a part of me that wants to say, “God saw my heart. He saw my sadness. And then he moved and worked in ways as to redeem it.” I still think things like this, but I don’t know why I find it so hard to just say them. Maybe he didn’t work it out this way for any particular reason. But even if he didn’t I still will acknowledge his blessing.

Grandma made it to heaven today. My aunt had texted earlier and said the nurse had been there in the morning and said she likely wouldn’t last three days. Her vitals were worse and breathing had become labored and shallow. She texted me a video mid-morning and I knew that was look. Another video came shortly after with even a more changed pattern of breathing. At some point she would breathe and be done.

In a series of events that we could not have planned or even imagined, it ended up being myself, my aunt, and two of my sisters on the phone. One was through Messenger and the rest of us were on Facetime with Darlene who was at Grandma’s side. I got to talk to her again and I poured out my heart, thanking her for teaching us the Bible and taking us to church, and for everything else she’d done in our lives.

We sang to her. In the later years of her life she would often bring up the hymn When We All Get to Heaven. I don’t know where this hymn came from, nor do I remember ever learning it. So all these times she’s wanted to sing it I have not known the words, though I can now sing the chorus. After that we sang Amazing Grace, the verses all out of order. But as we finished the ending words, she took her last breath and left.

And somehow we were all in awe. Is she breathing? Did her heart stop? Can you feel any heartbeat? In a moment she was gone, and we stared, and then cried. We tried getting a hold of Mom, then another sister, then another. They’d been on the phone together and had missed the original calls. But then we were all there and stayed on the phone for a while. My brother picked up from work. Another couldn’t at the time.

The boys were with me for school. I said okay boys, we’re going to call my grandma and say our goodbyes, thinking we’d do so then wait for the news. We had missed my aunt’s passing after trying to be there, and yet with God’s divine way we had been there for Grandma’s. I’m so grateful. And now what she’s been talking about for years has finally happened. She has joined the church triumphant beholding Jesus who loves her.

~Summer 2002, an anniversary poem~

Words cannot describe
the greatness of Grandma and Grandpa P
A million poems dare not list
all the things they’ve done for me
Few people in this world
hold a place in my heart
Grandma and Grandpa Piester
had a place from the start
With Melody Makers, Sunday School,
and missionary conference in the fall
They introduced me to the One
who’d steal my heart most of all
Whenever I slept over
they played the perfect hosts
Popcorn with Grandpa
and Grandma’s yummy French toast
Grandpa did everything
to make sure we had fun
Bowling and ping-pong,
cementing in the swing-set
and long wagon rides in the sun
Grandma did everything
to give us a treat
Washing the floor for a dollar, rolls,
and TWO egg McMuffins to eat!
The distance did not change
my love for them
though we saw them less than before
I never once doubted their love for me
Between Grandma teaching me
how to use fork
and Grandpa walking me
through the streets of New York
They touched not only my life,
but many others around
To be their grandchild
has never made me more proud
The Lord blessed me with them
in ways I could never fully see
My dear Grandma and Grandpa
you mean the world to me