Mary Ann Nold

Mary Ann Nold

It was a painful night on December 20, 2001. The weather outside was cold but calm. I was sitting in my grandmother’s living room next to a hospital-type bed holding my dying grandmother’s hand. Looking at her was one of the worst things to ever happen to me. Her body was completely motionless except for her chest, which was shaken by her staggering breaths. Her skin had a faint yellow glow about it, which I was informed was caused by jaundice. She seemed so fragile at the time. I would have never known it was my grandmother if my mom hadn’t told me.

My name is London and my hero is my grandmother, Mary Ann Nold. She always showed me how to live my life to the fullest and in the way of God. I knew very soon that she was some sort of saint. After she was married, she wanted a child. And did she get a child? No. She got children. In the end, she had ten children, which amazes me to this day. She managed somehow to raise those ten children to be very fine adults. How did she do it? I’m not sure; it seems like some sort of miracle to me. She was able to have her kids eat every meal together, go to church every Sunday and manage an entire household with a difficult husband.

How she changed my life was by showing me that everything will turn out alright if I just give it a chance. At first I didn’t really believe her, but after a while I began to understand. When she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, she still managed to keep up with her life and maintain her positive frame of mind. During her chemotherapy, she began to show more signs of weariness and exhaustion. Being ignorant to the effects of chemo, I thought she was going to be okay. I was wrong. The hospital in Kansas City advised that we transfer her to one in Lincoln, Nebraska. So, we did. My family went up to see her about a week later. When we got there, we couldn’t see her right away, so we went to a room in the hospital that we were staying in overnight. Much to our relief, she made it through her three-week stay at the hospital in Lincoln and was able to return home.

On December 19, though, we got a call from my grandfather saying that grandmother was getting sicker. We rushed out of our apartment twenty minutes later and headed up to Wathena, Kansas, where my grandparents lived. As we pulled up the gravel driveway to my grandparent’s old country-style house, my cousin Emily came out the front door and greeted us. Emily stayed with me as we walked inside. She said that I shouldn’t be frightened when I saw my grandmother, and that it was going to be all right. Something inside me told me that something was going to happen; something really bad. And something did.

Mary Ann Nold and myself

Stealing another glance at my grandmother, I rested my head in my hands and tried my hardest to be optimistic. Of course, my attempts were futile. My eyes began to tear as I sang to her…

So, as you can see, I think of my grandmother very highly and it honors me to be able to express my feelings for her here. My hero, the one person who always showed me that life is not all fun and games, but it can be enjoyed. She has shown me that all through your troubles, through your laughter and tears, there’s always going to be someone at the end of it all to show you how much they care.