by Sarah Price
“We’ll be along shortly,” Amos called out.
She climbed into the back of the ambulance, pausing for just one-second as she heard the sound of an approaching buggy. Certainly that was either the bishop or one of the preachers, she thought. By now, the entire g’may would know about Ana Riehl being taken to the hospital. Surely telephones rang in shops and barns, alerting the people who, most likely, hurried to inform their neighbors. The Amish grapevine at its best, Drusilla told herself as the doors to the ambulance shut. She sat beside her grandmother, holding Ana’s hand, and prayed that God would pay just as much attention to her.
Chapter Two
A stroke. That was what the doctors told the family. With a clot to the brain, the long term prognosis didn’t look promising and a lengthy hospital stay was certainly required. Since she remained in intensive care, there was no reason for all of them to stay. Once again, Drusilla found herself elected to stay.
“Dawdi’s too emotional and your maem’s needed at home for the kinner,”her father had told her in private. She didn’t have to ask why neither he nor Daniel could stay. There was too much to do with the preparing for the final harvests of autumn. “Besides, you’ll be the most sensible one to understand the doctors.”
“I understand,” had been her simple reply.
So when Ana was moved from the emergency room to the CHECK floor, Drusilla tagged along while her parents and grandfather returned to the farm. At the time, she hadn’t realized that staying with her grandmother would become her permanent responsibility. Now, however, it seemed expected. While Amos and Jacob visited every morning, it was always Drusilla who stayed behind when they returned to the farm. The hospital room smelled like disinfectant, an odor that Drusilla found strange and unpleasant. There were moments when her eyes stung from the intensity of it. The noises of the hospital were also unfamiliar to her. Between the nurses checking on her grandmother every few hours and the gentle whirling of a machine, Drusilla hadn’t slept for more than a few hours at a time. She felt worn out and tired, but she couldn’t do more than shut her eyes for a few minutes at a time. Even now, as Drusilla sat by Mammi Ana’s bedside, her hands folded and her forehead pressed against them as she prayed, the machine’s constant click…click…whirrr noise was hypnotizing, lulling her into a false sense of wanting to sleep despite knowing that a nurse would enter the room at any minute for the morning check-up on her grandmother.
By now, Drusilla hadn’t been home in days; she wasn’t even certain how many. What she did know is that she was tired and the back of her neck ached. She wanted nothing more than to see her grandmother released from the hospital so that they both could return home. The thought of sleeping in her own bed almost brought tears to Drusilla’s eyes. For at least three nights, although she wondered if it might not have been four, Drusilla had slept in a not-very-comfortable recliner with a too-thin cotton blanket and lumpy pillow.
Leaving Ana alone was not something that anyone wanted. Fortunately, the hospital staff granted special permission for someone to remain by Ana’s side at all times. Their compassion to the Amish culture that focused on family touched Drusilla. Many Englische people wouldn’t have even considered deviating from the regular rules of strict visiting hours for patients in intensive care. Clearly their familiarity with the culture had CHECK
The stroke had left Ana unresponsive and the doctors weren’t certain if she would regain the ability to walk or speak. While the former hadn’t been very good to begin with, the latter distressed everyone. Jacob could hardly come to the hospital room. He fretted in the hallways, shuffling his feet and mumbling to himself. Amos did his best to console his father while speaking to the doctors. But it was Drusilla who had stepped up to the plate and offered to stay with her.
“Well, good morning ladies!”
Drusilla lifted her head and looked at the pleasant, smiling face of the nurse. She recognized her as the nurse from the previous day. The morning shift must have arrived and begun making
their rounds. As with all of the staff at the Lancaster General Hospital, everyone had been more
than kind to her and her family. This nurse, however, had taken extra time to visit with Drusilla
and even took some time to pray with her for Ana.
The nurse walked over to Ana. “Why am I not surprised to see you here, Drusilla?” she said
cheerfully. “How are you feeling today?”
“Right as rain,” Drusilla said, but the fatigue in her voice gave her away.
The nurse didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t you go get some coffee or take a walk, dear?
You’ve been so attentive, but you need a break.” The nurse spoke while she worked, checking
the numbers on the machine hanging on a pole by the bedside. She wrote something down on her clipboard before she looked up at Drusilla. “She’s sleeping and won’t wake up until you get back, I’m sure.”
But Drusilla shook her head. “I couldn’t leave her side! She’d be terribly scared if she woke up and someone wasn’t here,” Drusilla added as she glanced at her grandmother. The idea of her grandmother waking up and not seeing someone she recognized, or, as the case may be, not recognize, simply appalled Drusilla. Even if Ana’s memory was increasingly deteriorating and her ability to speak was gone, hopefully just temporarily, Drusilla could not fathom leaving her side. She glanced at the clock. It was almost nine o’clock anyway. Jacob and Amos would arrive shortly, the chores having been finished long ago. “Besides, I don’t mind sitting here with her. I’d want the same if I was in her place.”
The nurse gave her an understanding, if not sympathetic, smile. She didn’t have to say anything for Drusilla to know that her grandmother would not wake up and recognize people. In fact, she probably wouldn’t even realize that she actually in a hospital. The stroke had simply further damaged her cognitive impairment and no one seemed confident that it would return. Hospice. That was the word that the doctors continued to use. Drusilla hadn’t been quite sure what it meant, but after her father explained the term, she knew that was not something for her grandmother. And the doctors referred them to a facility where Ana would receive around-the- clock care so that her final days could be comfortable.
Even though it was hard to accept the doctors news that Ana’s condition would not improve and tending to her needs at home would be a hardship, no one in the family wanted Ana to be cared for by strangers. Instead, they insisted that she be returned to the farm and everyone would help to care for her.
When the family announced this to the primary doctor in charge of Ana’s care, Drusilla had noticed the vacant look in Jacob’s eyes as well as Esther’s. Without being told, Drusilla suspected that neither one of them would be much help: Jacob was far too despondent and Esther too depressed. With Amos and Daniel planning one last hay cutting before the cold weather rolled in and dealing with the failed pumpkin crop, Drusilla knew what her role would be: primary caregiver. And not just of Mammi Ana but of the children as well as her mother.
Esther had visited one time and Drusilla noticed right away that she looked even more tired and withdrawn than before Ana’s stroke. With Drusilla staying at the hospital, Esther had less help at home. Between the baby, the younger children, household chores, and Hannah, Esther clearly was struggling. Once again Drusilla felt distressed at the thought of telling her mother that she not only intended to get married but possibly move to another state. How would her mother cope, especially now that Ana would become one more responsibility for her?
When the nurse left the room, Drusilla focused her attention on her grandmother. She reached out and held Ana’s hand, caressing it gently with her fingers. “Everything will be all right, Mammi. God will protect you with His loving embrace and so will your family. You’ll see,” she said.
When there was no response, not even a twitch in Ana’s hand, Drusilla felt the sensation of foreboding. Whether or not her grandmother could hear her words, Drusilla would continue t
alking to her. What upset her, however, was the fact that she realized she would most likely never again hear the sound of Ana’s voice or see the anxious look in her eyes when she wanted to hold the baby. Those days were over, just as summer had ended and autumn was upon them. And while there was always hope, at the end of the day, Drusilla knew that the leaves would change and fall from the trees. The changing landscape always appeared gloomy with bare trees, empty fields, and gray skies. The only happy thing that Drusilla anticipated was the new life she was going to share with Caleb. And it was that thought that kept Drusilla maintaining her strength as she sat alone in the hospital room with her ailing grandmother and having little hope that anything would change on that matter.
“It’s time for you to return to the farm, Drusilla,” Amos said, his voice low. He didn’t look at her as he spoke. Instead, he watched his father who sat beside Ana, holding her hand and staring into her face. “You’ve taken on far more responsibility here than you should have.”
“It’s no more than anyone else would do.” She wasn’t certain if she believed that since no one else had actually volunteered. It just wasn’t in her nature to complain or point out the obvious.
Amos appeared disturbed with dark circles under his eyes and no color in his cheeks. Drusilla didn’t have to ask how things were at the farm. She suspected that everyone was under a lot of stress. Between traveling to the hospital each day and keeping up with the chores, Amos had enough on his plate to burden the shoulders of any man. What worried her the most was the unspoken worries that she did not know about; in particular, her mother.
“Ja vell, I’ve asked Barbara to come tonight. Or, if nothing else, to arrange for one of the girls to sit with Ana.” When he said this, there was a flicker of something in his eyes, almost a look of irritation that Drusilla had never seen. “Ana’s their family, too,” he added.
Drusilla had wondered about the lack of support from her cousins’ family. While she understood that Miriam had a job at market, there was little reason why Drusilla’s aunt Barbara or even Naomi had not come to the hospital to stay the night and sit with Ana. Of course, Ana lived with Drusilla’s family and, therefore, had a closer bond with them. Naomi and Miriam visited frequently, but never with the intention to sit with their grandparents. They seemed more interested in visiting with Drusilla, instead.
She often wondered if that strained relationship had anything to do with Amos having received the larger farm. It was customary for the younger son to take over the family farm, simply because there were too many children in the families to give the farms to one of the older sons. Many times, the older son married and had children while his mother still had little ones to tend to. It simply wasn’t practical for the parents to pick up and move their still growing families just because an older son married.
Besides, everyone knew that Jake and Amos’s father had worked hard to purchase the neighboring farm for Jake. While most children would be appreciative, to Jake it wasn’t the same. On more than one occasion, Jake had made comments about the land not yielding the same sized crops as Amos’s farm. Once Drusilla had overheard her father telling Esther about a conversation he had with Jake about this very matter. Amos was of the mindset that Jake didn’t work hard enough while Jake expressed his opinion that Amos had been gifted the better property.
Drusilla knew that both arguments were equally valid. Jake didn’t seem to work as hard as her father and, therefore, the property was not as productive. Instead of fertilizing or making his daughters work in the field, he complained more than anything. Sometimes Naomi helped him, but she wasn’t as hard a worker as she could have been. And Miriam spent more time working at the market. While they had younger brothers, they were still in school and couldn’t help during the weekdays.
Knowing that any issue between the brothers was not her business, Drusilla stayed away from the topic. She suspected, however, that her cousins knew the truth of the matter. Miriam always remained silent about her father’s farm, but Naomi often rolled her eyes when the subjects of fertilizing, plowing, planting, or harvesting were mentioned.
“Mr. Riehl?”
They both turned at the mention of Amos’s name. The doctor extended his hand to shake Amos’s.
“Your mother’s condition has not changed, I’m afraid. Have you given any more consideration to that facility and hospice?” “Nee, Doctor,” Amos replied, his mouth set in a firm line. “That’s just not how we do things.”
The doctor nodded his head, smiling just enough to indicate that he understood what Amos meant. “I know these decisions are difficult. End of life care…” He paused, a moment of respect for Ana’s condition as well as to give Amos and Drusilla time to digest what he was saying, she suspected. “Well, you know that more of the Amish are opting for the facility near Leola, these days. It’s geared toward the Amish and the Mennonites. So such an option…well, it’s just not unprecedented anymore. With round the clock care, she might be better off in such a facility.”
But Amos remained steady in his decision. “I sure do appreciate your care, Doctor, but I feel the best place for my mother is with the rest of the family. We can care for her as well as any one on the staff at such a place. I can’t speak for others, only myself. We’d just as well arrange for her transportation home.”
The doctor reached out his hand and placed it on Amos’s shoulder. It was a gesture of compliance with the request, even though Drusilla knew from the numerous discussion he held with her father that the doctor simply did not agree. “Amos, you are a fine man and I’ll respect your decision. We can start making the arrangements for your mother and see if transport can be settled by tomorrow or the day after.”
“Danke” was all that Amos replied.
She waited until the doctor had walked away, probably to see his next patient. Only when she could no longer see him did Drusilla turn to her father. “Daed, is he saying that she’s going to die then?”
“I’m afraid so,” Amos replied.
“How can he say such a thing? Only God knows when we are to pass from this world to join Him in heaven.”
Amos inhaled and tugged at his suspenders. “The Englische have a different way of looking at it, I suppose. At least some of them. Their ways are focused on technology and medicine and other such things, the very thing that our bishop warns us to stay away from. When a man confuses medicine with God’s will, there’s bound to be problems.”
She couldn’t agree more. After all, if God could part the great Red Sea for Moses to bring the Jews to safety, if God could save Noah from the floods, and if God could father a son whose sacrifices saved the world from sin, why God could do anything, including waking her grandmother. As her father walked into the room to discuss the latest news with Jacob, Drusilla looked over her shoulder at the nurses who were hunched over their computer keyboards, their blank eyes peering mindlessly at the computer screens. She watched them in a new light as if seeing them for the first time.
If God could do all of those things, what good was the Englischers’ medicine? Faith was stronger than any medicine and God’s will was not something that anyone could predict. In that moment, Drusilla realized how fortunate she truly was to have been raised in a way that she understood such a concept. Despite having little exposure to the Englische, she had noticed how many people put their faith in things, rather than God—just as her father had commented. When bad things happened, rather than accept God’s plan, many Englische people questioned it or blamed others. Even in the hospital she had over heard people arguing with the medical professionals, questioning why their loved ones were not getting better and why more wasn’t being done. The one thing she did not see enough of was people like the nurse who had offered to pray for Ana.
For Drusilla, her love for God and her faith in His ability to heal even the most unthinkable illnesses was the only thing she needed. If He chose a different course of action, she would not question it. Instead, she would know that it was time for A
na to leave her earthly home for her heavenly one.
Chapter Three
It felt good to be home, to smell the familiar, even if pungent, odor of the cows and hear the breeze rustling through the tall, green corn stalks. Soon they would turn brown and, come October, Amos, Daniel, and Drusilla would cut them down for fodder. It would be the last year that Drusilla would work in her father’s fields. And, of course, there would be one last hay cutting. This year, God had provided more than enough hay for the family’s farm animals. As she stood on the porch and looked out at the fields, she wondered how it would be with Hannah helping this year.
For the past few days, Drusilla stayed at home, helping her mother with the chores and children. After much discussion, it was decided that no one would stay overnight at the hospital anymore. While Drusilla hadn’t like the idea of Ana being alone, her father had reassured her that the nurses would contact them if anything happened. She suspected, however, that the truth was no one else had volunteered to stay with her. Since her father had already told her to return home, Drusilla knew better than to argue with him.
Being at home, however, seemed different to Drusilla. The younger kinner were back at school and Hannah was always around, grumbling about something. Any chore assigned to her was completed most begrudgingly. Yet, for the first time, Drusilla noticed that her mother did not reprimand Hannah. With nothing said to correct her behavior, Hannah only complained even more.
Drusilla didn’t understand what was wrong with her mother. She seemed to alway be fatigued and too tired to work. After all, she had plenty of help now, even if Hannah’s help came with a price attached to it. Esther just didn’t seem to notice. She seemed to sleep a lot, but she never seemed rested. And her reliance on Drusilla seemed to increase even more now that Hannah was home, too.