Part 6 - Hazel's Life Without Her Friend Bob

Bob had a stroke the next year and was confined to a nursing home. I visited Mom right after the stroke. Mom was busy; she had a mission. She went to the nursing home every day, brought clean cloths, and stayed with him till evening. She was devoted. They had become very close over the years. Bob sat in a chair resting his head on a table with his face turned to one side. He was helpless, wasn’t enjoying life, and had run his trapline for the last time. He lifted his head off the table only one time. He made the effort to look at me and attest that it sucked, and then laid his head down again. Bob died a month or so later.

Mom was alone and very much lost again. She got sick and brother Don took a bus from San Diego, getting to Kokomo in time to put her in the hospital. When she improved he loaded her in her car and drove back to California. I flew in and we had a conference as to what should be done. It was evident that Mom, at nearly eighty-three, could no longer live by herself. We decided she would sell the house and move to California to be near Don and Ellie.

Don took Mom back to Indiana, and in three months we met again to clear her house, arrange shipping for what she wanted to keep, and put the rest up for auction. The attic and basement were full of fifty years of living. We found curtains stored in the attic that had hung in our bedroom in the 1950’s. Grandma Frank died in 1968, but her clothes were still hanging in a stand-alone closet in the basement. We rented one of those big trash containers, the type you see at construction sites, had it set at the back of driveway, and the proceeded to fill it.

Most of the stuff was in the attic. I’d go up, rummage around till I found something interesting, and bring it down to the driveway. Sometimes we’d decide it should go into the trash bin. If it passed muster Don would clean it (often washing it with the garden hose), and store it in the garage.

The auction was held on Sunday, September 29, 1996. The auctioneer lined tables along the length of the driveway, and filled them with smaller items. Larger things were carried from the garage when their turn came. Lots of people showed up to buy lots of interesting artifacts. One of the last things auctioned was Bob’s car, a late model Chrysler. Mom had driven it to the nursing home everyday after his stroke, and he indicated that he wanted her to have it. We got the title out realized that Bob had never signed it over to her. I handed it to the auctioneer, he looked at it a moment, took out his pen and forged Bob’s name on it. The auction was a complete success.
GO TO: Part 7 - Hazel's Last Years

The Life of Calla Della Jacobs - Part 4b, The Move to Kokomo, Indiana

Grandma had a stroke after undergoing a gall-stone operation in the fall of 1958. The family visited her in the hospital the evening of the stroke. She was cheerful, excited that she was to be released the next day. They called in the middle of the night, and we rushed to the hospital to find a different person. She lay there limp, her head to the side, eyes open and mouth agape - no response, no sign of recognition. Things were never the same. She was paralyzed on her right side and lost the ability to speak. Words came in a meaningless tangle. She eventually stopped trying to talk, getting by on grunts and shaking her head as we played twenty questions. Even that could be confusing as she would often shake her head “yes” when she meant “no” and visa versa.

Grandma lived another ten years in that sad condition, ever confined to bed or a wheel chair. Her right hand was shriveled from disuse, and she kept it buried under a small towel We tried to keep her at home those first years, but she required assistance for even the most basic of functions.

For a while her four children chipped in to hire a lady to care for her. Hazel Williams, a black lady, worked with Grandma for nearly a year. Hazel was recently widowed, and lived only a few blocks away. She probably needed the money, and we all liked her. She was robust and cheerful, cooked for the family, did some house work, and was Grandma’s constant companion. Grandma really loved her, and was happy, but Hazel was too expensive, and none of the children had the wherewithal to sustain the cost, so they had to let her go.

We tried letting her stay alone in the house with someone looking in now and then. One day I came home to find her sitting in the living room floor. The front door had blown open and she had gotten out of the wheelchair and crawled over to shut it, but was trapped for several hours. I remember to this day the big tears running down Grandma’s cheeks as she sat in the wheelchair begging to be allowed to stay at home. We couldn’t understand her words, but we knew what they meant.

The ordeal was starting to show on Mom. She was running herself sick, so we moved Grandma to Connersville, close to her other children, where she bounced from one rest home to another. She stayed a couple years, but was never happy. She wanted to go home.

We brought her back in 1966. She stayed at the Good Samaritan nursing home on Vaile Street, and we could take her for rides and home for visits. I stopped to see her and say goodbye when I left for Alaska in June of 1967. She signaled her amazement that I was traveling so far, and seemed to know that it was to be our last meeting. Grandma Frank died on January 30th of the following year. She was 84 years, 8 months and 7 days old.
THE END
GO TO: The Story of Grandma's Mother's Parents, the Baileys