Hospice Bears

The day that my mom was admitted to hospice was difficult. In a way, it felt like we were giving up on her. We knew she wouldn't get any better, but the word hospice just sounds so final. My dad had been in "at home hospice" two years before, so we knew how wonderful all the workers were. But we hadn't planned on losing Mother so soon after losing Daddy. Mother knew she had cancer, but didn't want to know "how long" she was expected to live. She was still pretty alert on the day we chose hospice and we actually asked her if she was ok with it. She knew it meant being able to stay at the hospital rather than returning to the nursing home. At the hospital, her pain could be controlled better and I think to some degree she knew that all of our family would be taken care of there too. But she knew what hospice meant...her life was coming to an end. She agreed that she was ok with hospice.

One of the workers asked if there were any grandchildren who might have a hard time in dealing with the grief of losing Grandma. That turned the faucet to my tears on high. Lauren had such a rough time when Grandpa died that I was very worried about how Grandma's death would affect her. I told the hospice worker that. She was fabulous. She brought me all kinds of information on how kids of different ages deal with grief and how to talk to them about it. Then she asked if she could give me a teddy bear for Lauren...kind of last gift from Grandma. I, of course, said yes. While she was gone getting the bear for me, it hit me that I had two other kids who wouldn't understand why Lauren got a 'hospice bear' if they didn't. So, when she returned with the bear, I told her my dilemma. She quickly found two more bears. None of the bears are identical. The first she brought was littler than the other two. Lauren was always petite, so it made sense that one would go to her. The other two were like each other, except for color. I put the bears on Grandma's bed and again my heart and Mother's had a conversation. I knew she agreed which kid would get which bear.

It was days after Mother's funeral before I was able to give the bears to my kids without breaking down. As I expected, Evan shed the most tears over his bear. That tender heart of his just overflowed once again. I honestly don't remember Danielle and Lauren's initial responses to their bears, other than that they both thought it was sweet.

Since the day that Evan got his bear, it has been sitting on the shelf of his headboard on his bed. When I see it, I think of Grandma looking over him as he sleeps. I don't mention his bear to him, because when I have, it always brings tears to his eyes. He is content to have the bear sitting there. It doesn't travel with us, but rather stays behind to guard the house!

Danielle, at 15, sleeps with Grandma Bear as she calls it. About a month after my mom's funeral, Danielle and I went to Rochester to the funeral of a friend's dad. We stayed at my sister's house. Danielle and I were sharing a room. In the night, I could hear her and looking for something in the dark. When I asked what she was looking for, her answer was, "My Grandma Bear". That made me smile as I didn't know she had brought it along. Ever since then, Grandma Bear always goes with us on overnight trips.

Lauren named her bear Max, since Grandma's name was Maxine. But Lauren insists that Max is a boy. When I tuck Lauren into bed at night, I have 3 that I have to give kisses to in her bed. And they are always in the same order: Berry (her pink bear that Dani gave her on her first birthday. Lauren remembers Grandma always liking Berry, since she is pink), then Max (the littlest so he has to be in the middle) and finally Lauren, the only one who kisses me back! It's also a good thing we have a van, because Berry, Max and The Grandma Blanket always go with us if we travel far from home.

Those 'hospice bears' were such a wonderful idea. At the time I was only thinking of how to help the kids through those rough first weeks and months. Little did I know how much those bears would still be helping a year later. The funny thing is, I think the bears help me as much as they help my kids.