A Prayer for Grieving Grandparents

Last week, I took an unexpected ambulance ride.  My week was disrupted, my plans changed and I ended up in a hospital bed.  The last overnight hospital stay I had was in the waiting room at Children's Hospital in 2013 when Kitty died.  Now, this unplanned sleepover gave me plenty of time to remember and to reflect on what had happened the night of the accident that took the life of my granddaughter.

I'd wondered what it was like for Mandy and her family that night when two emergency vehicles rushed them to the hospital.  I'd never seen the inside of an ambulance, so it was a reach for my imagination.  And, I'm quite sure that their ride was nothing like mine.  But, I did see the amount of space paramedics have to work and how smoothly they manage their way around in the back of the vehicle.  While lying on the stretcher, I tried to picture them working to save Kitty.

There was no waiting at the ER.  I was in an exam room immediately - no time is wasted when dealing with heart patients.  I recalled that's how it was for Kitty, too.  She was whisked in for immediate care.  For the first few hours of my stay, I had two nurses.  Two nurses monitored Kitty around the clock in the PICU at Children's.  

When I was finally moved from the ER into a room, I turned on the TV.  The funeral procession for Philado Castile was being shown on the 5:00 p.m. news.  I noticed that his casket was white.  Kitty had a white casket.

The news continued with updates on the attack in Nice, France.  There were reports of babies and children who were killed.  Babies ... Kitty was 8 months old.

The next morning, the nurse assigned to my stress test asked how many grandchildren I have. I gave my usual response, which includes Kitty in the head count.  'I have eight grandchildren; one 11-year-old step-grand, a six-year-old, a five-year-old, four-year-old twins, a four-year-old deceased, a two-year-old and a 9-month-old.  All are girls except for the baby.'

What do you think she picked up on?  How did the deceased die?  I gave her an extremely condensed version, but it was all she needed and I could tell that she had heard and remembered our story.  "I'm very sorry."  Another mention ... another reminder.  It was fine.  I like to talk about Kitty.  In fact, I love having the opportunity to tell people about her and to explain how she continues to enrich our lives.  It was a relevant conversation that took on the tone of growing stronger through our suffering, our adversity. 

Orlando, Dallas, St. Paul, Nice.  The stories of senseless killing continue to invade our daily news.  From my hospital bed, where observations and conversations reminded me of my own personal loss, I watched President Obama's town hall meeting.  Parents of police officers, children of victims, law enforcement, elected officials and Philando's girlfriend asked questions of  the President. 

Possibly I missed something, but I didn't see any grandparents included in the town hall.  Nor have I noticed any news interviews with grandmothers or grandfathers mourning the recent deaths of their precious grandchildren.  

We are the silent, the forgotten mourners. 

Over the past week, I've taken myself back in time and reminded myself of the raw emotion, the pain, the sadness and the struggle I went through as a newly bereaved grandmother.  And I am praying for all recently bereaved grandparents - especially those whose grandchildren have died in the recent outbreaks of hatred and violence.  May they find strength, comfort and emotional support as they join us on the grief journey.