Aunt Nellie--Part 2
We buried Aunt Nellie today--there in the sun and wind and traffic sounds, comforted by words of Scripture and songs of heaven. Sons and daughters and grandsons and granddaughters and nephews and brothers-in-law and pastors and farmer neighbors and church friends helped each other, and the final deed of service in Nellie's honor was accomplished.
South of Nellie's grave, and several rows east in the cemetery are two marble markers for the infant children of Edwin and Nellie. Both of them were born prematurely. Loretta Mae lived for four weeks. Wilbur Lynn lived only one week. A third grave marker is somewhere in Indiana. That baby, Raymond, was stillborn, also prematurely, when Edwin and Nellie went to Indiana for her sister's wedding. Raymond was the first in the row of babies who died almost before they had begun to live. Marlin was older than these three babies, and then Valetta came along, and four more healthy babies after that.
Yesterday Leanna (Nellie's daughter and primary caretaker of late) told me that the surgeon who operated on Nellie last week discovered a great number of adhesions, after-effects from a surgery in 1991 to remove a badly infected appendix. He observed that she must have had a very high pain threshold, since most people experience a lot of pain in that condition, and she likely had the condition for 18 years.
Apparently Nellie finally caved in to what most other people would have succumbed to much earlier--only after the first, minimally invasive abdominal surgery earlier last week. When the doctor saw how things were, and how uncomfortable she was, he recommended clearing out the adhesions so that she could rest. But that more extensive second surgery was more than her body could tolerate. It's possible that it caused a mild heart attack. For whatever reason, she went into congestive heart failure.
My sister-in-law Judy asked Nellie several weeks ago after church how she was. Nellie chuckled a bit and said, "I bet you can't guess what I did last night. I fell out of bed." She went on to recount the conversation she had with Edwin after that happened, and they decided there was nothing to do but call Leanna, since Nellie couldn't get up by herself, and Edwin is too frail to help her. So Edwin called Leanna at 3:00 AM and Leanna came over and helped set things right.
Leanna also told about finding Nellie fallen outdoors several weeks ago, apparently on her way back inside after having made the rounds to tend her flowers. She told Leanna what she had needed to do out there: Veetz rohpa (Pull weeds). Edwin was asleep and didn't realize Nellie had gone outside. Leanna asked Nellie why she hadn't pressed the button on her person for summoning help in just such cases--if she fell and couldn't get up. "I didn't think it was necessary since I wasn't hurt," she said.
Will, who teaches school next door, drove by on another occasion and saw her in the yard after she had fallen. No one was with her, so he stopped and helped her up and back into the house. That flower-checking venture involved a few glitches, but not enough to detour her permanently.
For several decades Nellie had severe dietary restrictions. She did not feel well if she ate wheat, dairy, or any acid-containing fruits or vegetables. But she didn't want to talk about it if she sensed that anyone would go to special pains to provide food for her that she could eat. Choosing among the available, though limited, options was quite alright with her--certainly much preferable to being fussed over.
Among the pictures in the Edwin Miller family archives is one hilarious one of Nellie perched on the seat of a now-vintage tractor with lug wheels. She is wearing a large straw hat, and most unaccountably, white, strappy, high-heeled sandal-like shoes, her foot stretching toward a brake or clutch that was almost out of reach for a miniature like Nellie. Jaunty, daringly a little unconventional, and on the job outdoors--That was Nellie all over.
Later, when she drove a three-wheeler to round up and move their Holsteins, she must have done it with the same aplomb she demonstrated early in life. At least her grandchildren fondly remember three-wheeler rides with her, after the serious business with the cows was done.
Attending funerals is one of the most reflection-prompting things I can think of doing. This funeral was no exception. I see Leanna's faithful tending to her parents' needs--traveling the miles between her home and theirs at least three times a day for many months, and resolve to be ready to help take up the task if my parents ever need such help. I see Nellie's uncomplaining, self-deprecating good humor, and want to live cheerfully. I see her and Edwin's faithfulness to each other over 63 years of marriage, and I want to be faithful to my husband. When sorrow intrudes on life, I want to grieve without bitterness, as Nellie must have grieved after her babies died, and she went on with life and having babies. When I am 88, I hope everyone lets me potter around outdoors with my flowers, even if I can't predictably stay upright in the process. If I fall out of bed and can't get up, I want to tell on myself and joke about it after church the next day. I'm not sure I want to try riding a three-wheeler or driving a lug-wheeled tractor in high heels, but living near the edge doesn't sound bad to me. Especially, I want to finish well, so that if someone ever needs to decide when to disconnect me from a ventilator, they will know that they are releasing me to go where I want to be forever--with God and those who have preceded me to glory.
David Y. read aloud today a poem he had found in Nellie's Bible. I liked it and am passing it on.
South of Nellie's grave, and several rows east in the cemetery are two marble markers for the infant children of Edwin and Nellie. Both of them were born prematurely. Loretta Mae lived for four weeks. Wilbur Lynn lived only one week. A third grave marker is somewhere in Indiana. That baby, Raymond, was stillborn, also prematurely, when Edwin and Nellie went to Indiana for her sister's wedding. Raymond was the first in the row of babies who died almost before they had begun to live. Marlin was older than these three babies, and then Valetta came along, and four more healthy babies after that.
Yesterday Leanna (Nellie's daughter and primary caretaker of late) told me that the surgeon who operated on Nellie last week discovered a great number of adhesions, after-effects from a surgery in 1991 to remove a badly infected appendix. He observed that she must have had a very high pain threshold, since most people experience a lot of pain in that condition, and she likely had the condition for 18 years.
Apparently Nellie finally caved in to what most other people would have succumbed to much earlier--only after the first, minimally invasive abdominal surgery earlier last week. When the doctor saw how things were, and how uncomfortable she was, he recommended clearing out the adhesions so that she could rest. But that more extensive second surgery was more than her body could tolerate. It's possible that it caused a mild heart attack. For whatever reason, she went into congestive heart failure.
My sister-in-law Judy asked Nellie several weeks ago after church how she was. Nellie chuckled a bit and said, "I bet you can't guess what I did last night. I fell out of bed." She went on to recount the conversation she had with Edwin after that happened, and they decided there was nothing to do but call Leanna, since Nellie couldn't get up by herself, and Edwin is too frail to help her. So Edwin called Leanna at 3:00 AM and Leanna came over and helped set things right.
Leanna also told about finding Nellie fallen outdoors several weeks ago, apparently on her way back inside after having made the rounds to tend her flowers. She told Leanna what she had needed to do out there: Veetz rohpa (Pull weeds). Edwin was asleep and didn't realize Nellie had gone outside. Leanna asked Nellie why she hadn't pressed the button on her person for summoning help in just such cases--if she fell and couldn't get up. "I didn't think it was necessary since I wasn't hurt," she said.
Will, who teaches school next door, drove by on another occasion and saw her in the yard after she had fallen. No one was with her, so he stopped and helped her up and back into the house. That flower-checking venture involved a few glitches, but not enough to detour her permanently.
For several decades Nellie had severe dietary restrictions. She did not feel well if she ate wheat, dairy, or any acid-containing fruits or vegetables. But she didn't want to talk about it if she sensed that anyone would go to special pains to provide food for her that she could eat. Choosing among the available, though limited, options was quite alright with her--certainly much preferable to being fussed over.
Among the pictures in the Edwin Miller family archives is one hilarious one of Nellie perched on the seat of a now-vintage tractor with lug wheels. She is wearing a large straw hat, and most unaccountably, white, strappy, high-heeled sandal-like shoes, her foot stretching toward a brake or clutch that was almost out of reach for a miniature like Nellie. Jaunty, daringly a little unconventional, and on the job outdoors--That was Nellie all over.
Later, when she drove a three-wheeler to round up and move their Holsteins, she must have done it with the same aplomb she demonstrated early in life. At least her grandchildren fondly remember three-wheeler rides with her, after the serious business with the cows was done.
Attending funerals is one of the most reflection-prompting things I can think of doing. This funeral was no exception. I see Leanna's faithful tending to her parents' needs--traveling the miles between her home and theirs at least three times a day for many months, and resolve to be ready to help take up the task if my parents ever need such help. I see Nellie's uncomplaining, self-deprecating good humor, and want to live cheerfully. I see her and Edwin's faithfulness to each other over 63 years of marriage, and I want to be faithful to my husband. When sorrow intrudes on life, I want to grieve without bitterness, as Nellie must have grieved after her babies died, and she went on with life and having babies. When I am 88, I hope everyone lets me potter around outdoors with my flowers, even if I can't predictably stay upright in the process. If I fall out of bed and can't get up, I want to tell on myself and joke about it after church the next day. I'm not sure I want to try riding a three-wheeler or driving a lug-wheeled tractor in high heels, but living near the edge doesn't sound bad to me. Especially, I want to finish well, so that if someone ever needs to decide when to disconnect me from a ventilator, they will know that they are releasing me to go where I want to be forever--with God and those who have preceded me to glory.
David Y. read aloud today a poem he had found in Nellie's Bible. I liked it and am passing it on.
Beatitudes for Friends of the Aged
Blessed are they who understand
My faltering step and palsied hand.
Blessed are they who know that my ears today
Must strain to catch the things they say.
Blessed are they who seem to know
That my eyes are dim and my wits are slow.
Blessed are they who looked away
When coffee spilled at the table today.
Blessed are they with a cheery smile
Who stop to chat for a little while.
Blessed are they who never say,
"You've told that story twice today,"
Blessed are they who know the ways
To bring back memories of yesterdays.
Blessed are they who make it known
That I'm loved, respected and not alone.
Blessed are they who know I'm at a loss
To find the strength to carry the cross.
Blessed are they who ease the days
On my journey home in loving ways.
posted by Mrs. I at
2:09 PM
4 Comments:
Beautiful!
By
Anonymous, at 9/30/2009
Carolyn said just what I thought.
By
Dorcas, at 9/30/2009
Thank you for your kind words. We as a family were richly blessed during Mom's passing, as we were during her life. And through the days of connecting with family, friends, and neighbors I learned of additional ways Mom had served that I hadn't known about before. May 'her' strength continue in our lives.
By
Omar, at 10/01/2009
Ahhh. I have heard much about this lady over the last several years. Your description of hat/sandal/tractor combo makes perfect sense if you know at least half of Omar's girls. :)
Jessica
By
Anonymous, at 10/01/2009
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