When Kitty woke the next morning and went into the kitchen, there was my grandpa, slumped over the kitchen table. He had had a stroke. The stroke left him unable to talk walk or use his right hand. Some say it was guilt that caused Kitty to spend the rest of her life taking care of my grandpa, but reflecting back an all I saw her do,I know she loved him too.
I was born in 1953 and have no memory of when my great grandfather walked. He was always in a wheelchair after that, and Kitty tended to his every need. Back then they did not have the rehabilitative resources they now have for stroke patients. My grandfather never learned to walk or talk again. His only way to communicate was by making a lo lo lo lo sound that rolled off his tongue, and to shake his head yes or no. In his right hand he always had a rubber ball, to keep his hand partially open so his finger nails did not dig into his palm.
This slight of a woman Kitty, bathed changed, fed and tended to my great grandfathers every need. Every morning by herself she would move his big limp body from the bed to the wheelchair, and back to bed at night. In over 25yrs I never saw a bed sore, and I never heard her complain. If he needed to be in the hospital, Kitty always insisted on the bed next to him, and would leave the nurses with little to do for him. The stroke did not leave him totally helpless though, many a time I saw him use his perfectly good left hand to throw something across the room, if she refused to give him his beloved schlitz beer. He never totally lost his mean streak, but he softened alot.
It was Halloween 1965, when they finally decided to tie the knot. They were both in their seventies. We all gathered in my grandmothers Den. The minister stood in front of a lighted tree as and Kitty and my great grandfather holding hands facing him as they took there vows. My great grandfather nodding his head in the affirmative with the lo lo lo. It left everyone in tears.
It was 1986 when my grandpa took a turn for the worse. For more than 25yrs Kitty had taken care of him. We new his time was short but Kitty insisted he die at home in the tiny apartment they had shared for over 20yrs. I would bring my 4yr old Tina everyday and we would sit with them, taking shifts with other family members. Finally one day not long after I had left, we got the call my great grandpa was gone. Not long after, Kitty went to join him.
It was at the her funeral I realized, how some things never changed. Over 30yrs later, as I overheard my great Uncle commend Kitty for the things she had done for my great grandpa, He still referenced her as " The Other Woman ". To me she was always great grandma kitty.
Published by donna moore
I'm a mother to 4, grandmother to 8, great grandmother to 3. I am married to wonderful man Marty. I have led a very bitter-sweet life, and have been told I should write a book. I think I'll start here, on... View profile
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4 Comments
Post a CommentThat was definitely love. Some that aren't considered 'the other woman' wouldn't stand by the person and attend to their every need. Thanks for sharing this, and I'm sorry I didn't find it sooner. :)
Wow....such a tender story of love and dedication! Kudos to you for being sensitive to the "other woman" label! My mom was the other woman for over forty years! Great read and I totally enjoyed this piece! Fab photo as well!
That's amazing. You can't find that kind of devotion too often anymore!
Just an amazing story of love and devotion, from one who obviously loved him. Wonderful--keep writing. My, you have a lot of fascinating stories!