Nonna

I just got back from New Jersey where I went to see my grandmother in the hospital. On Sunday morning she had emergency bowel surgery. She's 93 with a fragile heart, but the rest of her is strong. This is the most serious medical problem she's had. From the hospital she goes to a sub-acute rehab facility (in a nursing home) and in a week or so she may be home again, and able to sleep in her own bed.

I sat by her bed from 9 a.m. - 7 p.m. for two days while she was in CCU and watched her go in and out of morphine-induced confusion. Instead of letting the drug knock her out so she could sleep, she talked and talked. Her mind was storming, and the memories and stories flew around, some connected by thin threads, others flying in out (seemingly) nowhere. Why couldn't her brain just stop and rest? She was convinced the nurse had filled her with wax, (the nine different feeding tubes, I think, which she pulled out twice; the nurses had to put her in restraints when we left.) She was upset because she'd just had her hair done and it was flat in the back from the pillow, and when the colostomy bag was mentioned her lips got thin and tight and she shook her head no like someone was trying to put a spoonful of food in her mouth that she didn't like.

So, I'll give you fair warning: I think I may write about this for awhile. Track her spirits and give you reports on how she's doing. My fear is that she will starve herself so she doesn't have to process food. As it is she's thin and weighed 98 lbs. before the surgery.

My aunt (and godmother) lives with her and I worry about her, too. She's in tatters; my father's up there to help but he goes home on Monday. Then my mother is going up. My grandmother and aunt haven't seen her in 11 years, since my father told us he was going to file for divorce. My grandmother wants to see her, and my mother wants to go. She'll leave this Wednesday and stay in New Jersey for a week. Then my sister Gigi will go, then my sister Nina, then my sister Gianna, and it will be October and I wonder how long she will stay alive once this string of family has played out and she doesn't have the promise of these visits.

Are we saying our goodbyes? Because if I was I didn't take a long enough last look. My kiss was too quick, perfunctory. I forgot to squeeze her hand. I said "I love you" but it sounded piddly, just the tip of the iceberg.

I lived with my grandmother for two years when I was a baby while my parents toured with Fred Waring. Here's a photograph of me and my nonna that was taken in her kitchen.