I’ve been seeing someone -almost every night this week.
No, no, It’s not what you think, but I've been on a date, a date with my Grandpa. See, he’s dying.
Last Friday he went to our family doctor because he’s had a really bad cold. This cold turned into pneumonia and pneumonia turned into a bed in ICU.
My Grandpa is getting tired and he has a right to. He’s lived a busy, productive life. He and my Grandma raised 5 girls. He bought a little house with an acre, opened French’s Furniture and Cabinet Shop, built his girls a two-story play house then put them through college all on a woodworker’s paycheck.
I don’t really know what to write – I’m still processing.
Don’t get me wrong, I have waves of sadness hit me so strong I cry out-loud,
but when I open the door to his hospital room and I creep up next to his bed I look into his eyes and touch his unshaven face I see my Grandpa and this makes me so happy, just being able to say “Hi, Grandpa, It’s me, Anne.”
Sometimes he hears me and says “Hi, Darlin’”, sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes I can talk about the family, his hunting dogs, his Budweiser and you can see him going through the memories. It’s a beautiful thing.
He’ll go to hospice care when there’s a bed available, meanwhile I’ll just sit and keep on holding his hand and run my mouth (or not).
If you don’t mind, please keep reading. It’s hard when I just have sad news. But, it makes me try to be that much stronger and keep memories alive to know that somebody’s listening.
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1 comment:
I wish I met my grandpa's. They were both gone before I was born. I would have loved to be with a grandpa. I will keep you in my prayers.
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