"To All The Girls I've Loved Before..."

My Nana died this weekend at the age of 81.

It all began last Monday when I received a call at work from my Aunt that she had found my Nana on her bedroom floor barely conscious. My Nana had been there for four days alone, beaten, bruised and scared. The paramedics arrived and took her to Midcoast Hospital in Brunswick. She was dehydrated and suffering from hypothermia, but was conscious and aware of what was going on. That was the hardest part. After a couple days of testing, we found out why she couldn't move off that bedroom floor: she had fractured her neck and was permanently paralyzed from the breasts down. Our best guess, because Nana couldn't remember, is that she must have tripped in the middle of the night and broke her neck in the fall.

For those of you who are familiar with spinal cord injury, we found out she fractured her C6/C7 vertebrae. This means she could still breathe on her own and possibly use her arms in the future. During the past couple weeks, I learned a lot about spinal cord injury and found out the higher up the fracture along the spine-- the worse the fate. For example Christopher Reeves, the most famous spinal cord injury case, injured his C1/C2 vertebrae and that's why he required a ventilator. My grandmother survived those four days in her bedroom because she still could breathe on her own, but was trapped inside her own body.

Nana was then transferred to Maine Medical Center to see a Neurologist. That alone was tough on my father and I because it was only nine months ago that my mother died in that same ICU due to complications of the flu. Anyway, the specialists recommended a surgery to stabilize her neck, which would literally attach her head back onto her body. The surgery went well, and we were excited to see that she could move her right hand the next day. It was progress.

During those days at Maine Medical, my father, Aunt and I visited her every day. We shared stories over her bed, we laughed, we reminisced, and we cried. My Nana was sharp as always the entire time, but just couldn't seem to grasp what had happened to her body. It was too much for anyone. Six days in the hospital, she started to slip away. She died peacefully on a warm Saturday afternoon. There was no struggle. She simply had enough, and like the classy lady she was, she knew when it was time to say goodbye.

I am now the oldest woman in my immediate bloodline, and I am only 30 years old. I have lost a mother and two grandmothers-- and gave birth to a daughter-- in nine months. I still can't believe it, even when I see my own words in front of me. I can only hope that I can carry on the spirit of these wonderful women to my daughter Rosa. These women created me, taught me how to love and gave me the sense of what it means to be a woman. That is now my goal. Robyn McCausland, Estelle Purinton and Marylyn Downs will never be forgotten.