Our Last Family Photo

You'll never know the time or place. You'll never who you will be with. You never know how old you'll be. Life is uncertain. Life is unpredictable. Life is precious. Cherish the moments you have together. Because you will never know.

Yesterday, my aunt found my grandma on the kitchen floor. It was sometime after 8am and before 1pm. My grandma told her she needed to pee. So my aunt tried to get her off the floor, but she couldn't. She then called family members to help.

My mom called me. I was work, just about to go to lunch. I quickly left the office and rushed to my grandma's house. After entering the front door, I saw her there, lying left side down with her left cheek firmly against the cold kitchen tile. It was an awful sight. She was helpless.

My aunt and I tried to get her up, so that we could sit her in her wheelchair. As we lifted her, she shouted "anay" (the Ilocano word for ouch). We couldn't move her anymore. We decided to wait for my other aunt to arrive.

When she came, she called the paramedics and I called my work to tell them I wasn't coming back for the rest of the day. When the paramedics came, my aunt who just arrived and lives with my grandma answered the paramedics' questions about her medical information. At this point, my grandma is still very conscious and very able to respond. She even explains to the paramedics some of the words she's saying in Ilocano (as she usually does with non-Ilocano speakers).

My grandma is a very smart old lady in her old age. It's only in this past year that she has demonstrated bouts of being senile and forgetful. But for the most part, when you speak to her she will respond with full mental ability. I hope when I reach her age I will be as mentally alert as her.

When we get to the hospital (Orange Coast Memorial), she is admitted to the emergency room. She is now resting, but she is beginning to be less there. When the nurses come to do their where, they remove her blanket and she says in Ilocano "I'm cold" with her regular, strong voice.

After a few hours, my aunt (who found her in the kitchen) and I leave. I go home and after another few hours more my mom and I go to the hospital. When we get there we discover that my grandma is bleeding in the brain. (I find out today she had a stroke and she has a hemorrhage in her brain. I also find out, she fortunately did not break any bones from the fall. However, with her rejection of not putting a catheter in her head to drain the blood, her chances of survival are slim.)

My grandma is now very weak. She hardly talks. Her eyes are closed. My aunt (who lives with her), my mom, and I are all sad. I cannot believe this might be it.


As I usually do, I have rambled in this entry. But before I close, I want to quickly sum everything up for today's events.

At about midnight my aunt and uncle from Arizona arrive.
In the morning, I call my mom to find out what else has happened.
My mom tells me she opened her eyes.
She also says, my grandma is saying the names of her parents and her aunt.
My mom tells her they've all passed away.
Later, when I get out of work, my brother and I go to the hospital.
My three aunts are there and they all have somber looks with teary eyes.
As I see my grandmother laying in her bed, I well up and I deeply saddened.
My brother holds her hand.
My aunt (who lives with her) tells her that me and my brother are there.
We hardly get a response from.
My aunt from Arizona says she was really feisty in the morning.
And that, my grandma was really adamant about not getting any more surgeries or invasive procedures.

Although this may be the beginning of the end, I pray for the best. I pray for her comfort. And I pray that our family be strong at this hard time.



Lola, I love you and thank you so much for taking care of me when I was small. I will always remember the times I spent with you.