It’s finally here, I knew that this time was not too far away… my last living grandparent, and closest, is dying. He’s not eaten since Tuesday, he’s hallucinating, he’s very weak. His time is coming. Unfortunately I am living very far away and cannot go there to see him. I can’t say that’s a terrible thing. We have a great relationship, he knows how I feel, and that I will miss him terribly. My last visual memories are of a capable man who was enjoying his life and I’d like to keep it that way. Seems selfish to think that way, but it doesn’t matter since that’s the way it is.
I keep going back and forth from easy distraction to panic mode. I tried to talk to my Uncle, the person who is living with and taking care of him, dealing with all the hard stuff, but could only manage a few words while choking back my tears. I thought I’d be able to control myself but instead felt like a jerk having him be the one trying to console me. It’s his father, it’s so much harder for him.
The good thing is that my grandpa was a wonderful man. Kind, smart, hardworking, I was always happy to see him. He lived a very long life, longer that I think he wanted to. The past couple years have been very hard on him, he deserves a break. I’m writing about it here because in my family you don’t talk about this stuff. You deal with it on your own. We/they are not an expressive group. The first and last time I told him “I love you” were my last words to him, he said “ok”, (see what I mean) but I know he meant “me too”.