5 Years Ago Today...
I'm sure I've written about this before but it makes sense to share this story again today most of all.
April 27, 2001
Before Sept. 11th happened, I experienced a personal tragedy unlike any other I've ever witnessed before or since. I came home from class to find both of my grandparents taking naps. My grandmother in her bedroom at the front of the house and my grandfather at the back. I spoke briefly to both of them before heading upstairs for a nap of my own. It was approximately 3 p.m. and I had to be at my job at Starbucks at around 6. This required being awake and starting my evening by 5 or so. I kissed my grandfather on the forehead and told him to enjoy his nap. He called me "sweetheart" for the first time in my life. I was 24. They had been living with us for 5 years at this point. I didn't have much of a social life for taking care of my aging grandparents. My life was college classes, grandparents, a boyfriend who was very understanding at the time and my two jobs at a local newspaper and the local Starbucks. This was not how a standard 24-year-olds life should be going. But nonetheless it was mine. I proceeded to my nap, a shower and then changing clothes for work. I was prepared to make dinner for both grandparents before my departure for work. First asking my grandmother if she'd like anything to eat, she wasn't interested at the time and said she would wait for my Dad to come home before making any other decisions. So, it was onto my grandfather's room.
Everything comes back to me as if in slow motion. I opened the door to find my grandfather laying across the bed horizontally instead of vertically with his legs in the floor. I rush to his side, knowing exactly what's going on but refusing to believe it. His face is already gray and I'm looking into his eyes and experiencing for the first time...death. He's already gone. I immediately call my Dad to alert him and then call 9-1-1. My Dad doesn't believe he's gone and tells me to administer CPR (just as the dispatcher from 9-1-1 did). I couldn't manage to bring myself that close to his face. I was crying, screaming and my mind was racing. All I could think of was if there was something I could've done for him to save his life if I'd come down to see him an hour earlier. An ambulance arrived spending nearly an hour trying to resuscitate him. I identified myself as his granddaughter and primary caregiver so I was sure to receive immediate information from any officials. While working on him I went to tell my grandmother what was going on and to call my boyfriend of 2 years (at this point), Bryan. He rushed over to immediately be by my grandmother's side. Someone had to ride in the ambulance with my grandfather. My Dad was meeting me at the hospital. And then the walk. We had to take my grandfather's body past my grandmother's bedroom before leaving the house. My grandparents were a couple that never shared a bed for as long as I can remember. They were always fighting and seemed genuinely unhappy together. She took his hand, kissed it and then sat back down with Bryan and cried. This was the most tender moment I've ever experienced between them.
The drive to the emergency room was the longest of my life. At this point it's 5 p.m. on a Friday and all I can think about is rush hour. But somehow the ambulance made it through the traffic without a problem. All the while I'm staring my grandfather's body in the back of the vehicle.
My Dad was at the hospital when I arrived, we were ushered into a small room where we didn't leave unless we needed to use the bathroom or make a phone call. We knew it was over. No one needed to come over and pronounce him dead. It was already over.
We left the hospital that night, without my grandfather, around 12:30 a.m. The wake and funeral happened within days. He is buried at D/FW's National Cemetery.
I will be leaving my office at noon today to pay homage to this important man in my life with an afternoon at the cemetery with my Dad by my side. The man I love most in the world.
Rest in Peace, Manuel Arcos Dominguez Jan. 23, 1914 - April 27, 2001
April 27, 2001
Before Sept. 11th happened, I experienced a personal tragedy unlike any other I've ever witnessed before or since. I came home from class to find both of my grandparents taking naps. My grandmother in her bedroom at the front of the house and my grandfather at the back. I spoke briefly to both of them before heading upstairs for a nap of my own. It was approximately 3 p.m. and I had to be at my job at Starbucks at around 6. This required being awake and starting my evening by 5 or so. I kissed my grandfather on the forehead and told him to enjoy his nap. He called me "sweetheart" for the first time in my life. I was 24. They had been living with us for 5 years at this point. I didn't have much of a social life for taking care of my aging grandparents. My life was college classes, grandparents, a boyfriend who was very understanding at the time and my two jobs at a local newspaper and the local Starbucks. This was not how a standard 24-year-olds life should be going. But nonetheless it was mine. I proceeded to my nap, a shower and then changing clothes for work. I was prepared to make dinner for both grandparents before my departure for work. First asking my grandmother if she'd like anything to eat, she wasn't interested at the time and said she would wait for my Dad to come home before making any other decisions. So, it was onto my grandfather's room.
Everything comes back to me as if in slow motion. I opened the door to find my grandfather laying across the bed horizontally instead of vertically with his legs in the floor. I rush to his side, knowing exactly what's going on but refusing to believe it. His face is already gray and I'm looking into his eyes and experiencing for the first time...death. He's already gone. I immediately call my Dad to alert him and then call 9-1-1. My Dad doesn't believe he's gone and tells me to administer CPR (just as the dispatcher from 9-1-1 did). I couldn't manage to bring myself that close to his face. I was crying, screaming and my mind was racing. All I could think of was if there was something I could've done for him to save his life if I'd come down to see him an hour earlier. An ambulance arrived spending nearly an hour trying to resuscitate him. I identified myself as his granddaughter and primary caregiver so I was sure to receive immediate information from any officials. While working on him I went to tell my grandmother what was going on and to call my boyfriend of 2 years (at this point), Bryan. He rushed over to immediately be by my grandmother's side. Someone had to ride in the ambulance with my grandfather. My Dad was meeting me at the hospital. And then the walk. We had to take my grandfather's body past my grandmother's bedroom before leaving the house. My grandparents were a couple that never shared a bed for as long as I can remember. They were always fighting and seemed genuinely unhappy together. She took his hand, kissed it and then sat back down with Bryan and cried. This was the most tender moment I've ever experienced between them.
The drive to the emergency room was the longest of my life. At this point it's 5 p.m. on a Friday and all I can think about is rush hour. But somehow the ambulance made it through the traffic without a problem. All the while I'm staring my grandfather's body in the back of the vehicle.
My Dad was at the hospital when I arrived, we were ushered into a small room where we didn't leave unless we needed to use the bathroom or make a phone call. We knew it was over. No one needed to come over and pronounce him dead. It was already over.
We left the hospital that night, without my grandfather, around 12:30 a.m. The wake and funeral happened within days. He is buried at D/FW's National Cemetery.
I will be leaving my office at noon today to pay homage to this important man in my life with an afternoon at the cemetery with my Dad by my side. The man I love most in the world.
Rest in Peace, Manuel Arcos Dominguez Jan. 23, 1914 - April 27, 2001