On Monday night, at 9:36, my brother-in-law called to tell me that my only sibling had died of a massive heart attack. A few minutes earlier, Gail had asked Shane to find her swimsuit because Medicaid had approved swim therapy for her at Cardinal Hill Rehabilitation Center. Swimming was the only exercise she liked and enjoyed feeling weightless in a pool. She was so excited after her appointment that morning. They had ordered her a new wheelchair that could be assembled while sitting in the driver’s seat of her car. She was going to reclaim her independence! She had been searching in vain for a remote job. Every “perfect” opportunity was a scam. But she called me on Monday afternoon to say that not only bad stuff comes “in threes,” good stuff does too! A friend of hers worked at a place where several employees are disabled and they have someone to help them in and out of a wheelchair. She said, “Please say lots of prayers and put that crucifix to good use!” I promised I would. I didn’t, God help me. For some strange reason, I didn’t sleep the night before. I knew I had to get up early the next morning to watch my granddaughter, so I took some over-the-counter sleep meds so I wouldn’t have the same problem Monday night. I went to bed at 9:00, too delirious to remember my prayers. The phone rang 36 minutes later. Shane’s name was on the screen. The last time I saw that was on Derby Day 2023 when Gail had a heart attack and was being rushed via ambulance to the hospital.
Like her cats, my sister Gail had nine lives. She survived dozens of surgeries, a heart attack, and an above-the-knee amputation. Although she sweated and cried many times, she looked forward to her weekly appointments to learn how to walk on her prosthetic leg. She said the therapist said she was a rock star at one of her appointments. We all felt a little more hopeful.
A few minutes after I went to sleep Monday night, Gail fell either from her chair or her bed onto the floor. Shane heard the thud and thought she dropped something on the floor. After she didn’t respond to his call, he rushed to her room. She was unresponsive. He called 911. They couldn’t revive her.
Gail had many requests at her passing. For the last 20 years, even before her health declined, she had given me the same orders. “I want to be cremated and have my ashes scattered at my friend’s farm. There will be a party with no tears and everyone telling funny Gail stories. Oh….and I want bagpipes.” That was typical of Gail. Predictably unpredictable.
On Tuesday, Shane, Jeff, and I went to the funeral home in Lawrenceburg to begin the process. I remembered having to do the same with Mom. Our stepmother Beverly handled the details with Daddy. I was grateful we had a kind, compassionate woman to guide us through the process and didn’t try to upsell us on extravagant caskets and burial. I’ve heard many stories of grieving widows/widowers being scammed.
Financially speaking, Gail’s requests are modest: $1995 for the cremation, $2830 to have a “Celebration of Life” at Clark Legacy Center in Brannon Crossing in Lexington on May 9. This is where I ask for help. Jeff and I are living on a fixed income, which used to be pretty comfortable. Since subsidies for the ACA were discontinued, our health insurance has almost tripled and we don’t yet qualify for Medicare. Gail had no life insurance, disability, or income at all for that matter. Shane makes a modest income. Too much for any assistance but not enough for a couple to live comfortably. The total needed to pay for Gail’s last wishes is $4825 plus a bagpipe player. My son Jordan has offered to pay for the bagpiper.
Thank you for taking the time to read this lengthy post. I understand that a financial gift may be impossible for some. Please know that we appreciate any and all prayers for her family, especially Shane.
Feel free to share.
Thank you for any support, financially or emotionally, you can give.
Ann