1.7 million hours

Over 80 years.

If I counted the days right (including leap years), my Grandma Raynor lived exactly 29,237 days. Over 1.7 million hours on this Earth.

Over 31 years.

If I counted those days right, that would be 11,041. That was how many days our lives crossed paths.

Not every one of those days was a day we saw each other, but her influence on my life has been felt in every single one of those days.

I can remember her being a part of my first baseball experience. I don't remember who else went. It was a Cubs game - I want to say about 1987 or 1988 - and I believe my favorite player at the time (Andre Dawson) hit a home run in that game. I remember having a great time and getting to experience it with my grandma.

From there, she was around for just about every major life event. First Communion, all my birthdays, graduations (I believe junior high, high school and college). Would have attended a Bar Mitzvah too if I was Jewish.

And that's the key - she was there.

As a kid, you don't realize how much you value the idea of someone being there for your little league games, your events that aren't really memorable later in life except for the fact that you can remember the people who went to see you.

And that sense of humor...

If there is someone who had a better sense of humor than my grandma did, especially for someone her age, I'd like to meet him or her. I've never met someone who was so easily able to make fun of herself, laugh at herself, as my grandma. Including myself, there have been three or four people who have had a Halloween costume based off of her, and she loved every minute of it.

Her laugh was infectious. You could make fun of her just as easily as she could make fun of you - and you knew it was out of love. In fact, it was something Jen just told me on the car ride back from the hospital as one of her first memories of my grandma and how she knew that I was a keeper - she could tell how much I loved my grandma based on her observations of our interactions that particular day.

I remember her knack for spending waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much on Christmas gifts (Sorry, I mean 'Santa'). Even at a young age, I knew we were getting spoiled way too much, yet she spent on her grand kids non-stop. We loved her for it, but I think most of us knew we had it too good. That's how grandma was.

It's weird to think that she's lived on her own without Grandpa for almost 17 years. The great thing in that time, however, is how much closer us grandkids (and probably even her own kids) were able to get to grandma.

So many great stories to tell from the nights my cousins and I spent the night over there, not enough censors to block everything out.

Marilyn Raynor was an amazing woman, and I am honored that I was able to share the last moments of her life amongst our family. She was at complete peace when death came calling. That is the dream.

She was a strong woman, much stronger than I gave her credit for. She was never a woman who gave up, even in death. She beat death, but death just needed to set up a best of 3 - which of course she won easily.

I'll always remember my last exchange with her on a cold Sunday afternoon in March, saying and signing "I love you", with her signing it back. If there's a lesson to be learned from all of this, as you say goodbye to someone for a day or the night, try to make that last interaction a positive one. I will always remember this exchange fondly.

Thank you to all who have shown your concern and your love. I love you right back and wish you nothing but the best.

Am I Dying?

"Am I dying?"

These were words uttered by my grandma, my last remaining grandparent, to one of my aunts earlier today as she lay in her ICU bed.

Mortality is something we will all face, so when I heard my aunt retell this story, all I could think of saying is:

"Well, we all are dying right now."

Obviously not dying in the same way or at the same time. But all of us has an expiration date. Will it be tomorrow? Will it be 60 years from now? Who knows honestly.

Some of us are guided through this process by religion; some by other doctrines or life philosophies that guide us in our journey.

It's been a rough past couple weeks, as I learned that grandma was heading to the hospital with what seemed like a laundry list of things wrong with her. I knew it was a little more serious this time around than previous times, as her two siblings (one from the Atlanta area, another from downstate Illinois) came to visit to see how she was doing the previous weekend.

My mom was great in providing updates on her health, even though there's been very little good to report. Many of her vital organs seem to be failing her in some way. I don't care to get into all of it, but it seems like all of the problems she's had in the past are meeting together in a convergence that is making things difficult physically for her and emotionally for her daughters and the family.

Jen and I went to go visit her early Sunday afternoon. After putting on our scrubs and gloves, I went in and saw Grandma with a tube down her throat, unable to talk but can still communicate through some laser-type device hooked up to her right pointing finger. She spelled our names when we got there into my mom's hand as she read the letters she was "writing". It was really difficult to fight back tears. One of my aunts was doing as such, as I am guessing they have all been doing as they have been battling a lot of mental stress in deciding the best steps to proceed in this situation (none of which seem to offer much promise or are absent of severe complications). All I could do for her in that situation was give her a hug, as I think I will be doing a lot of in the next few weeks or so as this situation develops.

I was ecstatic that she is still mentally sharp, since she knew who we were still. She was able to hear everything we said and communicate her thoughts into my mom's hand. It was also very cathartic to sit next to her bedside and hold and rub her arm. It also made me really happy that Jen did the same thing. Not that she's got to worry about being part of the family, but it feels great that she can share in these moments when family is needed the most.

We spent about 30 minutes or so in the room and another 20-30 minutes in the waiting room before leaving the hospital. Before leaving her room, Jen and I said and signed "I love you" and grandma did the same.

It is tough and nearly impossible to deal with the failing health of a loved one that at one point in your life thought was invincible - I looked at all of my grandparents like that. My grandpas died months apart in my early teens, but I have been blessed to experience both of my grandmas (my dad's mom passing in 2011) into my adulthood.

I have also been blessed and extremely grateful for getting a chance to live within 5 miles of both of them - Grandma Bolek lived around the block while Grandma Raynor lived about a 10 minute car ride away.  Not too many kids have that luxury, and believe me, it's not something I've ever taken for granted.

I don't know what comes after today. All we can do is hope for the best. We already have a terrific network of family and friends who will support grandma and each other through these rough times.

Thanks for reading this far. Some point soon, I will share more thoughts about Grandma. It had been a while since I have written my thoughts into this blog, but with everything going on here, feel it to be helpful to share.

Love you all.