I'm ok, really.
Life is starting to get back to normal for me, whatever that is. Still, there are a lot of things I've not quite adjusted to.
Mom still sounds so...forlorn when talking about my Grandfather.
Most of all the bureaucratic stuff is taken care of now. Insurance policies, Medicare, etc. Still, it's a little unnerving when the phone up there rings and its one of various doctor's offices calling to remind that he has an appointment scheduled for next week.
I was genuinely moved when I told one nurse who had called. It was her voice. I heard her gasp and then she said how sorry she was. She litrally sounded like she was holding back tears.
The fact that he made such an impression on someone that I'm sure has encounted that scenario before is a testament to how wonderful he was.
I'm truely grateful I was able to know him as long as I did, but I still miss him so much. I remember one of the last things he said to me that wasn't a goodbye was on Thanksgiving. I had one of my baby cousins, Erin, in a rocking chair trying to get her to sleep. I'm fairly good at quieting them down so I'm often tossed a kid at family functions. I was sitting across the livingroom from him and he looked at me and smiled and said, "You look natural at that."
I just get so sad knowing my future kids will never know him.
He was just so lovable. Kids adored him.
I regret the fact he never saw me graduate.
I regret him not having met Paul. This is a big one for me. I kept putting it off, thinking I had time. I think they would really have liked each other. I see a lot of him in Paul. Paul is quiet and kind, and just...radiates love and affection. You can't help but like him. He's so sweet. And this is how everyone remembers my Grandfather.
And I know. Don't have regrets.
Maybe regret isn't the right word. I just feel a terrible sadness that I won't now be able to do that stuff.
I don't regret he died. I'm just thankful he's no longer hurting.
I don't know if anyone can fathom what he was feeling near the end. He was riddled with cancer. He had congestive heart failure. Every 3 months he had to have surgery to replace a stint in his one barely functioning kidney. He'd been cathiterized for at least the past 2 years. Multiple kidney stones, an enlarged gallbladder, and his stomach had somehow twisted and pushed its way up into his chest cavity.
I think about what sheer pain he must have been in on those final days, and then to look at me on Thanksgiving and just smile....
Mom still sounds so...forlorn when talking about my Grandfather.
Most of all the bureaucratic stuff is taken care of now. Insurance policies, Medicare, etc. Still, it's a little unnerving when the phone up there rings and its one of various doctor's offices calling to remind that he has an appointment scheduled for next week.
I was genuinely moved when I told one nurse who had called. It was her voice. I heard her gasp and then she said how sorry she was. She litrally sounded like she was holding back tears.
The fact that he made such an impression on someone that I'm sure has encounted that scenario before is a testament to how wonderful he was.
I'm truely grateful I was able to know him as long as I did, but I still miss him so much. I remember one of the last things he said to me that wasn't a goodbye was on Thanksgiving. I had one of my baby cousins, Erin, in a rocking chair trying to get her to sleep. I'm fairly good at quieting them down so I'm often tossed a kid at family functions. I was sitting across the livingroom from him and he looked at me and smiled and said, "You look natural at that."
I just get so sad knowing my future kids will never know him.
He was just so lovable. Kids adored him.
I regret the fact he never saw me graduate.
I regret him not having met Paul. This is a big one for me. I kept putting it off, thinking I had time. I think they would really have liked each other. I see a lot of him in Paul. Paul is quiet and kind, and just...radiates love and affection. You can't help but like him. He's so sweet. And this is how everyone remembers my Grandfather.
And I know. Don't have regrets.
Maybe regret isn't the right word. I just feel a terrible sadness that I won't now be able to do that stuff.
I don't regret he died. I'm just thankful he's no longer hurting.
I don't know if anyone can fathom what he was feeling near the end. He was riddled with cancer. He had congestive heart failure. Every 3 months he had to have surgery to replace a stint in his one barely functioning kidney. He'd been cathiterized for at least the past 2 years. Multiple kidney stones, an enlarged gallbladder, and his stomach had somehow twisted and pushed its way up into his chest cavity.
I think about what sheer pain he must have been in on those final days, and then to look at me on Thanksgiving and just smile....