Transitions

Grandma passed away on Christmas Day, 2013. Legend has it that she made a transition: from this life to the next. Actually, we seemed on the verge of many transitions then, and yet very few.

Christmas of course represents the transition of Jesus Christ from heaven to earth. And we all celebrate New Year's, transitioning from one year to another. Resolutions, anyone?

Earlier in 2013, I had moved back home for non-Grandma reasons. But taking care of Grandma made it an easy decision to stick around. We still had to handle Grandma's burial and belongings, but this seemed like a good time to think about my own transitions. Get a job? Doing what, and where? Relationships? Faith? There seemed plenty of possibilities, and I tried to discern what I *should* do.

In January 2014, we buried Grandma in Seattle. Then we had a memorial in Sacramento. Then we had another memorial, back in Seattle! It was a lot of work by countless people, but I'm glad we did all that. I'm glad we gave Grandma's friends and family a chance to honor her, and I'm grateful for that chance, too. I was tasked with making a slideshow for Grandma's Sacramento memorial. I've always been aware of how I didn't help much when my dad passed away, and I wanted to try harder this time. I had learned from my dad's passing, 20 years ago, that it really is important to honor the person at that time. People do move on; we don't hold someone's memorial every year.

Anyway, here's Grandma's slideshow:

It definitely took a lot of work, but that part's kind of a blur now, and I'm grateful for how it turned out. I think my dad would've appreciated it, too.

At the start of February, I was home again, as were Mom and my sister. I'm sure we were all thinking about transitions. Mom's life had revolved around Grandma care for a couple years; now what? Did one of us need to stay with Mom? Would she move? Did my sister or I want to leave Sacramento?

I decided to work harder at my computer programming and see where that led. But Mom still had her own health problems. Twenty years ago, she almost died from a chronic autoimmune disease called Wegener's Granulomatosis. More recently, she had suffered drastic vision loss in her right eye over the course of one year, and numerous experts were unable to pinpoint the cause or an effective treatment. (Mom flew to Portland, New York, and even the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota for advice.)

Then came Valentine's Day in Fresno. You see, before Grandma died, we had taken her to see Jake Shimabukuro in concert. She loved it! She was so excited after that concert that she had trouble sleeping that night. And after that day, Grandma'd love to hear music from Jake on our computers.

Jake was playing again in Fresno the day after Valentine's Day, so Mom, my sister and I made a road trip to see him.

However, on Valentine's Day itself, my mom first had (another) eye appointment. Strangely, my mom had trouble simply writing out a check to the doctor. It was strange enough that the receptionist suggested setting up an appointment with Mom's regular doctor, so we walked over and made one for next week.

We all had a good time in Fresno, but I remember my mom struggling a bit. She had memory/communication problems.

The next week, my sister took Mom to the doctor's appointment. Nothing new came from that. But the next day, Mom had an unrelated appointment with another doctor, and I think my mom's behavior was so strange that my sister took her to the ER.

The doctors at the hospital, Mercy General, did a CT and an MRI on my mom:

That, my dear, dear friends, is a tumor. It's dimensions are about 6 x 4 x 5 cm, or 2.5 x 1.5 x 2 inches. It's *not* benign. The diagnosis was "primary CNS lymphoma."

Remember how I mentioned transitions? Grandma's passing introduced a landscape of infinite possible transitions, for all of us. Yet now there would be none, or perhaps just one.

On the other hand, beforehand I didn't know how to decide what to do. Now, the decisions were easy.

Next time, perhaps: "Fighting Cancer."

Grandma: the end

I went for a quick jog this morning. I don't mean "quick" like, "I ran only 5 miles, when I normally do 10 every morning." I can't stand false modesty. I jogged/walked around *half* the park near our house, *once*, basically like walking around the block. For me, that's good exercise, and I'm not ashamed of it. =)

Anyway, in that short walk I saw something remarkable. I was looking one way, then another, then back, and suddenly I saw an older woman in the distance, seated on a walker. She looked almost like my grandma, even the way she was seated, in the sunlight, looking out across the park. But I knew it wasn't her.

I think that's one of the toughest things. When you *know* it can't be them. It's like when I have a dream about my dad. Every year or so, I'll have a dream in which it was all a mistake; he was just trapped in some far off part of the world, and now he's back. And then I wake up, and I *know* it not only wasn't real, it will never be real. (At least in this life.)

Last year, in August, we rediscovered the Sacramento Zoo. It's always been there, but I just didn't have a reason to go. But Grandma liked it.

Here she is with her pet giraffe. There's also an elephant, which Mary brought from Africa.

Grandma got to feel what this lizard is like. (I think it was a lizard.) Grandma was always up for trying and learning new things.

I think here, Grandma's looking up some bamboo plants in the zoo. In the background is Mary.



We went to the zoo a few more times. Actually, Grandma had quite a few more adventures last year. Maybe if we ever meet in person again, you can ask me and I'll tell you about them.

Here's a picture from more of a mini-adventure. Grandma loved the sun, so we took her out to my car, opened the hatchback, and we fed her dinner while sitting on my Scion's "tailgate."

Isn't it a nice picture of her? The superficial part of me thinks, "Too bad she's not smiling." But I've come to realize that Grandma stopped smiling on the outside because her facial muscles had simply grown weak. It's like when we lose a tooth, or even if our teeth just get yellower. It's just part of getting older.

Here's another close-up of Grandma. It's from November, shortly after her birthday. There was some discussion whether Grandma was 94 or 95, as she was born in China and we never had her birth certificate. I say Grandma earned the right to be called 95. =)

Strangely, this seems to be the last photo I took of Grandma. We sent her to a nursing home for a week, to give us a break from hospice care. That was mid-November. Grandma came home later and I think we still had a couple more adventures.

It's a shame, because there was a lot about my grandma that I didn't pay attention to learning. I learned it later, and I'm glad I did. But I wish we could've talked about it a year ago. (Grandma lost the ability to talk toward the end.)

Grandma Fong passed away in 2013, on Christmas Day. She was in bed, at home, with us in the room. I had just finished putting on a sweater she had bought for me.



Actually, Grandma had a pretty good life. I know many people are afraid of dying painfully, being alone, running out of money, etc. Grandma was never rich, and I think us family members would sometimes do things for her more out of moral obligation than tender love. (I sometimes did, at least.) But I think things worked out in the end.

Grandma would want me to mention a little more. In the Bible, which is specially from God, there are promises. I don't quite understand them, but either a person dies and immediately goes to be with Jesus, or a person dies and sometime later goes to be with Jesus. Perhaps it's always immediate from their perspective. I don't know if it happens to everyone or most everyone, and I don't like how that conversation gets off track….

Nevertheless, I really do believe that, if anyone were to be with Jesus right now, it'd be my grandma. Or perhaps she's still resting, and she'll see him before she knows it.

Remember that quick jog I took this morning? When I saw the older woman sitting in the walker, I knew it wasn't Grandma. And it wasn't, as I jogged by her a moment later.

But, for a split second, I felt like Grandma really was there. She was. And she was very happy. I'll take that.

One last thing for this post: We had to go through Grandma's belongings. So, I took her wallet and took everything out. That's this photo: every single thing Grandma had in her wallet. Some will recognize the items or pictures.

And if you look, you'll see some money. I honestly forgot what I did with it, so let's pretend I took that exact amount and put it in the offering, fulfilling the prophecy.

The end