To Whom It May Concern

More Time

As most people know, I grew up on a farm. Our house was just across the country road from the farm itself, but for all practical purposes, it was just like living on the farm itself, as we were so close. My earliest memories are all from the farm. Crossing the fence at the other side of the road to walk across the cow pasture. Playing with nuts and bolts in the back of the old blue air compressor on the other side of the pond, in the junkyard. Playing in the hay barn, cleaning the back of the dairy barn, riding my bicycle all over, all these memories from birth, through grade school, college, until now. But to say 'the farm' isn't exactly the correct terminology, because as kids we always referred to the farm as 'Grandmas'. We're going up to Grandmas, because my grandmother was always there.

The farm itself has been in my grandfather's last name, same as my last name, from the beginning, in the 1860s. During that time we always had the dairy, until just this last August when they sold the dairy portion of the farm off in order to focus on the agricultural portion of the farm. But for decades, Grandma was in that barn, morning and night, 5 to 8, then helping with calf chores, cooking meals for everyone, cleaning, painting fences, upkeep all around the farm. Because of all of that, she was so visible, she was the backbone of the farm, and therefore the farm became "Grandmas" and was referred to as such by all of us kids, and even by the cousins in the family that would come to visit the farm. I would tell my friends I was going to Grandmas. Grandma always wanted to meet anyone I was dating, never to express a displeasure with anyone, but because she loved meeting new people, especially those interested in her family.

I have never known anyone who works as hard as Grandma worked. I found myself thinking that she is the strongest, hardest working woman I have ever known. But that statement isn't fair, because she is the strongest and hardest working PERSON I have ever known. She never asked for anything for herself, only put forth the effort to help others. There was no paycheck for her, no salary, no bonuses, no time off. Nor did she ever ask for any of those. As she got older, she would head in early from time to time, maybe start a little later, but you could always count on Grandma beyond all others to be in that barn, milking those cows. Afterwards she could be found in the house, cooking, cleaning, welcoming the constant number of family and friends who would visit. She may have married into the farm as it existed, but make no mistake, she was the farm, more so than anyone else could have been.

Grandma was incredibly bright, she could name the capitals of all 50 states in America. There are 93 counties in Nebraska, and on vehicle license plates they are listed by number as the starting prefix, and Grandma could name every county based on the plate number. When us grandchildren had problems with homework, she would help us. If we had a spelling bee to prepare for, she would listen to us spell out the words, and without checking she knew if they were right or wrong.

In the last 1990s, Grandma was in her early 70s, and still she could be found, morning and night, in the milk barn. Her knees were failing her, her arthritis made it difficult to move around, every other word she said was "WHAT?" as her hearing began to fade, but her mind was as sharp as ever. She never let any amount of pain stop her from whatever she put her mind to. We were able to convince her to finally stay away from the barn following a stroke she had, but how does one fill such shoes, how do you replace someone who gives all and asks for nothing in return? You cannot, and in some ways it left a hole from which the dairy never recovered.

Over the following few years, Grandma focused on her lawn, on her cooking, she spent less and less time outside, her hearing got worse, the television got louder, until she finally let go of her stubborn nature and accepted wearing a hearing aid. Her health gradually got worse, but her mental state always made one think she was healthy, that her tenacity and willpower could overcome anything her body would throw at her. In 2007, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Thankfully it was found early, and through treatment the cancer went into remission. Once again, Grandma fought back and overcame another challenge. Once again, Grandma was back at the farm, once again we could go up 'to Grandmas' to visit.

Over the next 18 months, my sisters would work hard to try to get everyone to the farm once a week on Sunday afternoon. Each week was the phone call asking us to come down, and odds are I had work, or I was too busy with something with the house, or some other excuse to not make it. Last Sunday the phone call came, but this time to tell me that Grandma was back in the hospital. Over the course of four days in the previous week, the pain had gotten so bad that Grandma could not even sit up in bed. Once at the hospital, they ran some tests... the cancer had returned, and was in most of her major organs.

Despite this devastating news, somehow deep inside I felt that she was strong enough to withstand the cancer, that somehow we would have more time to spend with her. They ran an MRI, and thankfully the cancer was not in her brain. This was good news, but only a little. She was still in a lot of pain, but they were controlling it with medication. We thought maybe when she came home we'd have to have someone to watch over her, or perhaps she and Grandpa could live in an assisted care facility of some sort. Bell and I were able to stop in and visit. We dropped off a photo of the three of us from Wisconsin. Grandma got to see lil N', but they were taking her for another MRI and we were only able to stay for a little bit, but that was okay, we'd stop in again, when there was more time.

Then Friday morning I received a text message while at work. "Things are worse today, you should come to the hospital soon". I drove as quickly as I could, to find that Grandma likely had a heart attack, a mild one, but with her current state of pain, and the medication she was under, that they weren't sure if she'd make it through the day. I went in to say "hi", she opened her eyes momentarily, but I could not tell if she knew I was there. I went into the hallway, there were so many family and friends around, I didn't want to crowd the room. My mother took lil N' in to see her Great Grandma, and I didn't find out until later that Grandma had actually leaned forward and momentarily smiled at lil N', the only time she had smiled all day. I was so relieved to hear that, because it let me know that Grandma knew we were there. Late that night, with all of the family around, she passed away.

While I kept my composure at the hospital, as I drove home I found myself just angry. WHY, why did this happen so fast? Why couldn't we just have had a little more time? Then I had to stop and realize how selfish this was, that Grandma was in so much pain. She had likely been in this amount of pain for quite some time but because of the type of person she was, she would not have told anyone, because that was not the type of person she was. I went upstairs, it was around 3 in the morning by that time, and I looked in on lil N', and it was that moment where it all hit me. As I run my fingers through my sleeping girl's hair and tried in vain to swallow my tears, I thought about how much Grandma meant to me, to everyone she touched throughout her life.

Even as I drove down yesterday, just me and lil' N in the truck, my first thought was how happy grandma would be to see lil' N, and I felt the air leave my lungs in a rush as once again that realization set in, that Grandma would not be there. There will be no more Sunday phone calls inviting me to come down to "Grandmas". As I pulled into the yard, I found myself in tears. I miss you already Grandma Helen Halmes, I only wish I had a little more time to spend with you.