My Grandma: The Cheerleader in the Skies

They always say death is a part of life and is a phase we all go through in the game they call life. The past year presented the first real time I dealt with this game. On June 12, 2019, one of the darkest days experienced, I became the grandson of an angel.

My maternal grandmother, Patricia Bacon, 73, loving mother, grandmother, friend, aunt, cousin and sister, was called home to the Lord after a long-term illness.

Before we show the photos and everything in-between, a big shout-out to my mother for supplying me with all the photos, to make this chance possible! Trying to spread out the emotions of something and not hold everything in, but rather spell it out part-by-part.

My grandmother with my brother Ryan and I (I think, 2003) during a karate event. The photo is framed and on the book shelf between my room and my brother Ryan’s room.

She had not been well in months before, with a bout of lung cancer having returned. Despite falling sick again, she always still made time for a call or a text.

And I remember every second of that day. Having become a USPS employee on March 2, 2019, she was always one for liking good news.

It was Friday, May 31, 2019, a monumental day I wasn’t sure how fast it came, but it did! I had passed my 90 days, the end of my probationary period, becoming a USPS employee (The smile was as fresh as the start of a new baseball season). The feeling was the best in the world, since improvements had to be implemented to give myself a better look.

Having began a hold down of a route in Wood-Ridge on Monday, June 3, 2019, she wasn’t feeling good the weekend before it began. I had hope that perhaps maybe she had an allergic reaction to something, so I was hoping it would be the case.

It wasn’t.

She was in the hospital the following day. Two days later (Wednesday, June 5, 2019), I remember walking in the front door from work, with my dad and brother seated on rocking chair and the couch respectively.

And I remember my dad saying the following, “I just got a call from Mom, she wants me to take you both to RWJ New Brunswick to see Grandma. They don’t know how much time she has left.”

I hadn’t gotten out of my work uniform any faster than I did that night. I thought maybe it was speculation, perhaps what the doctors were doing, this was a process to fend off the cancer, as she had been receiving chemotherapy and immunotherapy treatments.

We made our way to the hospital. I was holding hope things would look good. The complete opposite unfolded before my eyes. It felt like I got hit in the stomach by a curveball.

My heart instantly shattered. Faster than I could have ever imagined. The lady I’d see at every gathering, event, dinner, school event, etc, was no longer vivacious. The laugh I can hear in my head was no longer an occurrence. I wasn’t ready to accept it. Not for one second.

A grandmother and her two crazy grandsons. The three of us from a wedding in February 2016.

Any future plans I had at that point, including hold sat work, my birthday, and an upcoming wedding later that month, became irrelevant, nothing seemed important. It all became second thoughts. I always got anxiety when in a hospital, this all caused levels to instantly skyrocket to out-of-control proportions.

My grandmother had a breathing machine on, with tubes and meters to assist her with breathing. I knew instantly things weren’t good and watching it all unfold right in front of me. It was hard to understand her with the mask on her face, but she still had a little bit of the attitude coming, which sorta made us chuckle a little bit.

My brother and I were seated in chairs next to her bed. We still filled her in on how work was going. She was thrilled and proud to see what we had coming up! She was happy to see us and hear of all the good things we had coming up.

My mother and her boyfriend were there most of the day. With my dad also being there, it gave my grandmother a chance to speak to him as well.

Little did I know that would be the last time I would see her. Things remained the same in the days that followed, but the reality of her declining health started to kick in.

Step 1 in the process: My mother did not want either my brother or myself visiting again, with her state of health.

On Sunday, June 9, 2019, after finishing up at work and grabbing dinner with my cousin up in Wyckoff, I was on the way home. I knew my aunt and uncle flew up from South Carolina to visit, so hope and prayers were there. My dad had spoken to my brother and I, asking us to just pray, but since she was admitted, holding hope the doctors knew what was going on. Perhaps, the path they were taking was going to lead to her feeling better.

Upon asking how the visit went, the response I got on my phone was just as bad as the whole situation was:

“Very tired and quite different.”

To give a backstory, several years ago, in February 2013, she had been diagnosed with lung cancer. After months of chemotherapy and radiation, it appeared she had won the battle!

From my high school graduation party, a few months after my grandmother won the first battle with lung cancer.

It came back in October 2018. With a vengeance. And despite feeling really tired from all the treatments, it appeared she was on the right track!

Chemotherapy and immunotherapy treatments were being given to my grandmother, which at the time, gave some optimism that maybe she could knock this and try to restore a normal life.

No radiation could be given due to the excessive amounts she received from treatments during her first fight in 2013. You had a feeling right at that moment, she probably was never going to be 100% again, but at least somewhat of a normal life could not be restored.

The worst followed about a few hours later. My mother telling me to contact my supervisors on what to do in the event of a death in the family. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

I felt sick to my stomach, with those words coming out on the telephone that Sunday night. I didn’t sleep well that night, running on two hours of sleep the following day. Supervisors were made aware what was going on by me, so everyone was, in a sense, on the same path.

I knew right there, there was nothing good. There would be no hope, no recovery, no chance of seeing my grandmother normal again. Prayers for a full recovery suddenly changed to prayers to end the suffering.

Those days and that week became a blur. A set of days I could not instantly recall if you were to ask me at any given moment.

I had that day off. It was Wednesday, June 12, 2019. I stayed over the previous night at my paternal grandparents’ house in Jersey City, since it was a game-plan put together in previous weeks.

I had texted my aunt a question regarding the rules of parking in Jersey City to that point, they wanted me to let them know about my ride back home, to make sure I would get back safely (because relatives, they are always concerned with the craziness sometimes when people are driving).

The one moment that made the situation more peculiar, a text message and a phone call from my mother immediately followed about a minute later. She was coming up with her boyfriend Todd. I asked her how the situation was and she said things were not good. The call dropped suddenly, I can’t remember just holding the phone in my hand for about three minutes before realizing what was happening.

I knew what was coming, I wasn’t going say anything. My dad’s parents who were watching TV and told me to relax a little bit and enjoy the TV. I gave them a warning that the news was coming, it didn’t take much for me to realize.

At about 3:25 PM, they arrived. I thought to myself, “here we go.” I made the walk outside. My mother just got out of the car and I didn’t even have to say a word. I knew at that moment I lost my grandmother. She just said grandma passed away a few hours ago. The low tone of that sentence on that summer day just made me go instantly numb. I didn’t even cry at that point, I was just stunned.

It was beautiful outside, but maybe my grandmother wanted the day to be a nice one the moment she passed. The amount of phone calls/texts/messages I received within the timeframe of about two days, I’ve never seen that happen once before.

Surrounded by her children, she didn’t want to be in the machines for more than a week. She really didn’t have to suffer that much, looking back at it. Holding out hope the doctors could’ve figured out what was going on. There was no chance of it happening.

At about 12 noon that day, the doctors took her off the machines. She took her last breaths and went peacefully. No more pain, no more suffering, just another angel over us.

The sickening reality of her not being around anymore set in right away once my grandparents being told what happened. My paternal grandparents told my mother and her boyfriend to come inside. My grandmother said to my mom, “Oh, how’s your mother? Is she okay?” I didn’t like what came next.

My mother answered, “Unfortuantely, she passed away a few hours ago.” My grandmother instantly hugged my mom. She was stunned. The devastated looks on her and my grandfathers’ faces explained it. There was always a friendly relationship between the three of them, at the gatherings, like high school graduations and parties.

Once we all collected ourselves, I remember my grandfather saying to my mother,

She’s not suffering anymore, that’s most important.

He was right. I was a little bit better knowing she wasn’t suffering anymore.

It didn’t take away what we were now faced with.

No more trips to the shore. No more trips to the beach. No more good-tasting meatballs at dinners. No more visits, not even a phone call. I look back at text messages, especially the last conversations via text, it leaves an emptiness inside. It left an empty spot right inside for me. It still burns mightily to this day.

I haven’t stepped foot on a beach since her passing and I don’t plan to in the foreseeable future.

On the car ride home, the text messages and phone calls started coming in. The first thing I said to my mother was, “She’s with Pappy again.”

Happy in this case, the man I consider my maternal grandfather was Vincent Bacon, who was with my grandmother for about six years and married for less than a year before his unfortunate passing on August 8, 1998. I think personally after waiting all that time, they’re throwing a party each night up there. When she lived in Somerville, that was during the time they were together. He was mainly from Easton, Pennsylvania.

And while this is not a true statement, but if all dogs go to heaven, they are reunited with Clodette, a dog they adopted, who passed shortly after Vince’s passing in August 1998. Yes, even the dog gets to see her adopted mother again. That actually made me smile for like two seconds.

I had grabbed dinner with my mother and her boyfriend that night. Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals was on, between the St. Louis Blues and the Boston Bruins.

The minute I stepped foot in home, the tears just started flowing. I don’t think I stopped crying for about 20 minutes. Sleep didn’t come easily either. It was a little better when sleeping, just knowing she was relieved of her suffering,.

But I believe it’s moments like that when you feel like maybe she’s testing you directly where she’s not with you physically, but up there spiritually, needing to see if you can be strong and fight through the tears in the sadness.

The first day back to work was another blur. It rained heavily, so I thought maybe that “tears from heaven” sort of kicked in. The supervisor publicly expressed condolences, to which I replied, “thank you.” I remember a few carriers came up to me and said that they were sorry. I don’t know how I kept it together at that exact moment, because I felt like I could’ve just instantly broke down.

Once the services were announced, I immediately requested the bereavement leave without pay (in my instance). Starting the following Sunday until that Tuesday, when the private funeral would be.

Once services right now were set, the three days to takeoff of work for the bereavement leave begin that Sunday, on Father’s Day, the last day of peace/normalcy for a while.

Monday, June 17, 2019 was the wake, with a private funeral the following day. You do have a couple of days to cool off, in a sense, between the day of the passing in the day of the week. Man oh man, the minute I walked in that room and saw the coffin, that’s when it really hit me that she was not coming back.

Immediate shock kicks in and then as the day rolls along, you in a sense, feel tired from all the people you greet, all the same, basic conversations, maybe some faces you haven’t seen in a long time, just knowing how many people loved my grandmother.

Okay, you can chuckle a little at young Dan, but I was young once. My brother and I were the only grandchildren on my mother’s side, but it never seemed like good visits had to be planned out. They always seemed to happen without anyone having to script it so perfectly.

Grandma, I have no doubt you’ll probably smack me upside the head if you ever saw me this upset, but this shows how much you were loved and are sorely missed. I’d give anything for another meatball, even if it was a little burnt, or if I meant to steal a few off the plate before dinner. But they were always so darn good!

From the early days in Somerville, on South Cadillac Drive, the days on Port Liberte by the water, the pool, the nights of watching movies together, brings me back. Even the memory of us accidentally locking ourselves out of her Shearwater Court apartment her first night of living there in 2003 brings a chuckle.

We had to contact security because the sliding door got stuck, not opening and a lot of people were cramped on a small balcony, where you could see the Statue of Liberty in the distance. She relocated to Toms River in 2014, where there were several beach visits, lunches by the restaurants near there, along with some nights by the boardwalk, just driving by and taking in that summer air.

Seeing loved ones come in, just talking to people, I had no idea that it could make you just that drained as a whole, both emotionally and mentally. Work became a second thought at that moment.

Just a range of emotions. From tears, from grief, to frustration I couldn’t get down there more, to the new reality, just so much at once. It was overwhelming. The music from the memorial slideshow of felt like an instant shot to the heart. The photos over the years, every memory, just every second, slams you at once, like a freight train.

With part one out-of-the-way, the grand finale with the private funeral prove to be a much harder day. There was an older gentleman, a deacon, who sat with my mother and my uncle when preparing a speech about my grandmother. The slideshow is still playing in the coffin was still there.

A short list of people were there, including my dad, who made the trip down to Toms River, to have a half day at work. Once it was over, the final goodbye was to come. Not a moment I’ll forget to this day.

When kneeling next to the coffin, it was just uncontrollable crying. I thought my dad was going to have to help me get up from the kneeling. I looked at that coffin and stared at it for about 10 minutes before they had to close up shop.

After lunch in the repast, we had to stop back at the house to pick up a few things. I made the mistake of going inside. Just constantly sick.

It didn’t seem right knowing that house was empty.

The last time I saw her before all of this happened was Palm Sunday, we had all gotten breakfast down in Toms River. Just being there when she wasn’t well was some compensation, but knowing she was likely never going to be 100%, it was still hard.

The minute I stepped foot at home, everything seemed different. I was to return to work the following day, as well as my birthday just two days away, and the last thing on my mind was celebrating a birthday. I would always get a phone call from her. The next week and a half, I worked all but three days, with a wedding the final Saturday in the month of June.

I had been doing much better at work, but it didn’t really seem important. All I remember is the supervisor telling me to just take it easy the next few days.

I had said I just wanted to come into work and just do my job. I needed anything to distract me from what happened, at that point, anything. Working after a few rough days is what my grandmother would have wanted me to do.

As the one-year mark is approaching, I had experienced the grieving process. I dreaded the holidays to come, but being with my dad’s family on Thanksgiving, it was one less day to dread.

Christmas Eve, a holiday I would always celebrate with my grandmother, it just wasn’t the same. It was a quiet celebration at home. New Year’s Eve is a perfect goodbye to a trying year and hoping 2020 would bring better things, which for the most part, it has.

The moment where you want to hold everything in, not speak to anybody and hope heavy distractions at work is what I thought, could be the healing for the day.

It wasn’t. And I decided to take that path.

It was a mistake, since I hadn’t been discussing my feelings with my mother, or anyone really on her side of the family. Not even my dad. It wasn’t the right path to go down, especially in the days and months following my grandmother’s passing.

My advice to anybody going through the grieving process. If you need to grieve, let all of the emotions out. Don’t hold it in like I did. As a whole, I don’t feel like I handled myself appropriately.

But on days of work, you don’t have time to think about it so much. It’s the moments when you’re not working that it hit you like a freight train all over again.

To the friends (and I mean very few) that I gained over the while at work, to those who have listen to me vent, just let everything out, I’ve been there each day just want to pick me up when I’m at my worst, it doesn’t go unappreciated.

In 2019, I may have lost my grandmother, but I gained a good job and I gained a few good friendships that I hope last a lifetime!

And not to be clouded up, when you are in the grieving process, you will have good days, but also bad days. When I was presented with a work opportunity to be the acting carrier of a tour, I haven’t been sure if I was going to get it.

I remember getting the text message that I got it. The moment was exciting. Until the very moment I picked up the phone and almost texted my grandmother’s phone. I would always tell her about accomplishments in anything I’ve done.

Yep, that hurt just a little bit.

I don’t think there’s ever any one thing I can do to pay back for those (You know who you all are) who were there for me at one point. Just knowing that you’re there means that much. I know at some point, there will be normalcy, but it won’t come right away.

I figured to use this picture for last, since she always liked to have a good time! Whenever she was, you could not get in her way.

She was on the train down to the next stop at the “Have a Nice Day!” station. Hope your folks up top are throwing continuous parties for you, Grandma! Save me a seat when we all see each other again!

We will see you soon.

Patricia Bacon

March 21, 1946- June 12, 2019