Last Thursday morning (1-18-07), my grandmother died at 12:02am. She survived two minutes into her 87th year. Most would see dying on your birthday as incredibly sad, but I don’t think Ma-Ma would have. In fact, she would have seen it as fitting. She had been sick for quite awhile- suffering with the effects of Alzheimer’s. In the fall she was finally admitted to a nursing home because my parents could no longer care for her at home. Honestly, I have no idea how they did it for as long as they did. I last saw her at the nursing home’s holiday celebration in December. She knew me at times, but it was obvious that at other times she couldn’t quite place me. She had gone from the woman who insisted on perfect makeup and nice clothing to someone who had no bowel or bladder control. She was confused. At times she couldn’t quite differentiate between my mother, myself, and my daughter. Since we all look somewhat alike, I can imagine that to a failing (or perhaps flailing) mind that this must have been difficult for her. One minute she was in the current year, the next she was twenty years in the past, and five minutes later she was a small child looking for her parents. Sad.
So, Ma-Ma’s death brought her a sense of peace. I couldn’t and can’t imagine that the woman I knew for so many years would want to continue on with the “life” she was living. I told people countless times at the visitation that while I was sad for my family and myself, I was happy for Ma-Ma.
In the past, part of my grieving process would have involved shopping therapy. I shop when I am happy, when I am sad, etc. Add to my grief the fact that I was spending four days in my grandmother’s house (which remains exactly the way she left it when she was take to the nursing home) and I was dealing with everyone else’s grief in addition to my own. Things were strained to say the least. A perfect opportunity to shop. I thought that I had prevented my desire to shop by leaving all of my credit cards at home and only bringing necessary cash. I was only partially correct…. My mother, the great enabler, decided that she would take me to the mall. In al actuality, I was only looking for a tie for Tony. I came home with new tall boots (such a deal at only $20 for boots that were originally over $100) and several new pieces of clothing for Tony. The good part is that I did convince myself that he didn’t need dress shoes (his sneakers worked fine for the funeral) and a pair of versatile dark pants and shirt/tie combo were both on sale. My mother footed the bill for all of it (of course). Honestly, it had been YEARS since I had been into a mall and I hate to admit that it sort of felt good. What felt even better, however, was looking at all of the things my mother offered to buy me and turning them all down. I knew that many of them wouldn’t get worn enough to justify their expense or the space they would take up in my life. Furthermore, I just didn’t want them… The boots will get worn regularly and the clothing she bought for Tony (other than the tie) can be worn regularly too. Of course, some would consider these purchases gifts since I didn’t actually open my wallet for them. However, I did participate, so I broke the rules.
On Friday, I went on a search for something that I knew was once again against the rules. It was silly even. Ma-Ma was a cat person. And when I say cat person, I fully mean it. Her cats were treated better than most people’s children. They even had their own room. Once in the early 80s when one of her precious cats got outside and was mauled by a stray dog before she could find her, Ma-Ma spent thousands of dollars on her surgeries and care. I would have done the same and have. Her last cat, Blackie, now lives with us just as I promised her he would if anything ever happened to her. He arrived at our house (cat central) just a few weeks after her admission to the nursing home. This shared affection for furry beasts left me feeling that somehow she needed, or possibly would have even wanted, something furry and feline to follow her into whatever afterlife she believed she was going to. The Egyptians mummified the cat of the deceased and placed them in the tomb for their afterlife, so maybe my desires weren’t that odd after all. Of course, there was no way that I was giving up Blackie (who has quickly become one of my favorite cats), plus, I obviously would never sacrifice a living cat. So, I began my search for the perfect stuffed cat. It had to be either solid black or Siamese. It needed to be almost life size. It had to be cuddly… something that Ma-Ma would have thought was cute when she was alive. And, lastly, it had to have personality. I am quite bad about giving names and personalities to inanimate objects. Ma-Ma was no different. It wasn’t easy to find a cat that met all of my criteria. There were none at any of the second-hand places close by. The toy store that was open when I lived in that area five years ago had since gone out of business. Finally, almost exhausted from my search, Morgan and I ventured into the Books-a-Million store for an espresso. I had no idea they carried stuffed animals. But they do. $14.99 plus tax later I was walking out with the perfect kitten for Ma-Ma. I had picked out her final clothes, matched her clothes with the proper shoes, jewelry and hose, written her obituary, picked out the casket and colors for the funeral flower arrangements, and now I had a cat to go with her too. Odder still, when I arrived at the funeral home that evening and placed her kitten in the coffin with her, I realized that her makeup and her hair simply weren’t “right”. I took my own makeup out of my purse and with the help of my cousin, made her look proper…. lipstick and all. I have since realized just how truly bizarre this all was/is. At the time though, it seemed only normal.
It’s been a hard five days. And I broke The Compact. And I couldn’t care less. I did what I needed to do at the time. I am mentally healthier for it. This week I will be back on track.
Now…. I need to post this and then I can move on….
Below is the obituary for my grandmother. I’ll miss you Ma-Ma…. You were the only one that always thought I was right no matter what. You never said anything negative to me, EVER. Your love was fully unconditional and you taught me that kind of love. Thank you.
Lorene Turbeville Abbott, of 431 Abbott Lane, Murrells Inlet passed away in the early morning hours of January 18th, 2007, her 87th birthday, at Conway Hospital after a long illness. She was known to most of those around her affectionately as Ma-Ma.
She was predeceased by her husband, Bill Abbott; a daughter, Mollie Carolyn Mangrum; a grandson, Bunny Mangrum; and five siblings. She is survived by her son, Billy Abbott and his wife Pat; her brother Clarence “Bug†Turbevillle and his wife Janie; granddaughter Lori Grbich and her husband Victor; grandson Jimmy Mangrum and his wife Shawna; grandson Will Abbott; granddaughter Marlaina Abbott-Ross and her husband Anton. She is also survived by great-grandchildren Randi- Lynne Byrd, Morgan Gilliam, Tony Ross, Daniel, Joshua, and Vanoy Mangrum; as well as great-great-grandchildren Gavin and Landon Byrd. She also had many greatly loved nieces, nephews and friends. She was especially fond of her newest friends that she had met recently at Jordan’s Care Center.
She was an active and founding member of Murrells Inlet Presbyterian Church (which was originally built by her father, Van Buren Turbeville). The original structure survives to this day. She was a seamstress for many years before retirement, and continued to work later in life as an Avon representative and hostess at a Murrells Inlet restaurant. She raised and loved Siamese cats and African violets. Her granddaughters continue her love of cats and violets.
Visitation in celebration of her life will be from 6-8pm at Goldfinch Beach Chapel on Friday January 19th, 2007. The funeral will be held on Saturday January 20th, 2007 at Murrells Inlet Presbyterian Church at 3:30pm with burial to follow at Belin Cemetary. In lieu of flowers, or as gesture of remembrance, the family asks that donations be made to The Alzheimer’s Foundation, Murrells Inlet Presbyterian Church, and W.A.R.M. (Waccamaw Animal Rescue Mission) in the name of Lorene Abbott.
