See you in the Eucharist

The summer before my 20th birthday I watched as my grandmother passed away. Her and my grandfather lived in the back of our home and that summer, Mom asked if I would refrain from attending summer camp and instead come home and work as my grandmother's nurse. I wasn't the only person taking care of her, we also had hospice nurses working full-time, but they couldn't administer her medicines or insulin shots. So we set up a schedule, I received some basic training and off I went.

In the morning and in the evening, I would walk to the back of the house, knock on her door and place a cold diet Dr. Pepper next to her bed. Then, when she was ready, we'd do medicines, followed by either preparing for the day or preparing for bed. When she had the energy and I had the time, we'd start talking. As we got to know each other better, I started opening up to her about life in Tennessee and how I really felt about myself and my place in this world. She shared stories with me about growing up in Bogolusa and raising my mom and what it was like when she first fell in love with JK. I remember laughing. I remember embracing her and crying. I remember rolling my eyes and marching out of the room muttering 'grandzilla' under my breath in frustration...


It was the best summer of my life.

The evening of her death, I remember the hospice nurse coming to me, concerned. "She's not eating." She told me, "I can't get her to eat"
I walked to the back of the house and opened the door. A warm Dr. Pepper was next to her bed. I walked over to her bedside - it was the first day she hadn't gotten out. Her eyes were closed because she was too tiered to keep them open - but she was wide awake.
I calmly said to her, "Hi Grandwanda. It's me, Tori. I love you. I have food here for you. Food to make you strong. It's important to eat - so you can get better...."


The nurse handed me spoon with food on it and I held it up to her mouth and whispered, "Open."


She opened her mouth. I moved the spoon.


"Close"


We did this three times - she was too exhausted to keep going.


"Good job. I love you." I whispered before I left the room in tears.


Less than 2 hours later our family stood around her bed and watched as she breathed her last breath.


That moment changed everything. Everything. My understanding of the connectedness of the world - the fragility and sacredness of life.  How I saw myself as a person - what I thought about my faith - about boys - about my parents


As a Catholic, I believe in the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist.
I believe that, because Christ died only once, that at the sacrifice of the Mass, I transcend space and time and am brought to the foot of Calvary - right where Christ died.
That at every experience of the Eucharist - I share in the experience with every person who has ever attended Mass - ever - in the history of the world. At Mass, I join in communion with all the Saints, all the angels in Heaven and all the souls around the world who have ever attended Mass - ever.


For the next 6 months following Grandwanda's death I cried during the consecration, because I knew- that at that exact moment - I was standing next to Grandwanda - that she and I were united in that moment on the foot of Calvary - that we were by each other's sides again. That she hadn't really left me - because for that time, we were back together again.


And today, whenever I start missing her - I go to mass - and I see her again, in the Eucharist.


Because no matter who you are, or where you live, or anything - I will always see you in the Eucharist. Because we are always united in the Eucharist.