FROM THE

BY SARAH NIGBOR

This weekend was a whirlwind for the Nigbor clan, a true rollercoaster of emotions. Life is like that sometimes, but it can be tough to navigate. “Adulting” is hard.

On Friday, our 4-H club (the Martell Rushers) took on the Ellsworth Panthers Floor Hockey team and boy, are they good! The players are students in special education programs in the Ellsworth Community School District. They are fierce competitors; they beat the Rushers 13-5, but the kids (and a couple adults) put up a valiant effort. The best part of the evening was seeing the huge smiles on everyone’s faces. We can’t wait to play again next year.

On Saturday after two of our boys had basketball tournaments, we hit the road for the long trek to Berlin, Wis., where my husband’s grandpa entered into hospice care on Friday. He’s been sick since Christmas Eve when an ambulance took him to the hospital with sepsis. He was in the ICU for 20 days after contracting COVID at the nursing home in which he was recovering after his first hospital stay. He couldn’t see anyone for 20, long days. That is tough on anyone, but especially a 90-year-old man who is very ill.

We tried to make the trip a little less grim for the kids by staying in a hotel with a pool. They swam on Saturday night and as their screams echoed throughout the tiled pool room and I watched mystified as a group of four adults (at least in their 50s) chucked beef sticks at each in the hot tub, I wondered how on earth you prepare kids for something like this. Not that they haven’t lost loved ones before, but it doesn’t get easier. Right or wrong, we told them what hospice is, but didn’t dwell on the fact that this visit may be their last with their beloved “Pa.” I hope to God it’s not, but it might have been.

When we found the facility, I was pleasantly surprised. It was a beautiful, historic brick structure with a glassed-in greenhouse on the front. It overlooks a marsh, so Pa can watch for wildlife from his bed. An avid deer hunter and trout fisherman, that’s important to him.

As we trooped in, the kids quickly became concerned with “kid worries,” such as who gets to try Pa’s recliner first or who gets to give him the Beagle stuffy they picked out for him. I was glad they were acting like themselves, and we think Pa was too. His eyes lit up when we all entered the room. We talked about how he’d enjoyed his lunch and how he finally got to have a cup of coffee that had some actual taste. (He and I both enjoy strong coffee). My husband filled him in on hunting plans and they reminisced a bit about past hunts.

It quickly became apparent that he was tired and needed some rest. The six of us are a boisterous group, even for a healthy person. I’m a sensitive soul, but I can usually hold it together and not cry when I need to. My husband is always stoic, but I know he feels things strongly. He’s especially close to his grandpa, so I can’t imagine what’s swirling through him right now. After long hugs, we walked silently to the elevator. Even the kids weren’t chattering and no one fought to be the one to push the button.

As we got into the vehicle, I wanted to lighten the mood, so I asked my husband to give us a tour of Berlin. His dad grew up there and the Nigbor name is abundant. We stopped on Main Street to get a picture under the “Nigbor Furs” sign on an old building, a store once owned by his family. My husband lost his dad when he was six months old in a foundry accident. As we toured the town, the ghosts were thick, but it was nice to show the kids a piece of their history. I think that’s important. It gives them a sense of place.

I don’t know what the future holds. My husband and I plan to go visit Pa again this weekend. I know we all go through it, but nothing can really prepare you to see those who once took care of you and who seemed as strong and mighty as great oaks, deteriorate before your eyes. I hate seeing those I love struggle to do the things they once loved. I hate to see them suffer through illnesses and pain. Life is beautiful, but sometimes it’s so hard. Sending love to all of you out there who are grieving in some way, shape or form.