He's Gone
This morning at almost 5 am my grandfather passed away. This has been the longest day for me. My sister called around 2 on Thursday afternoon and told me my grandfather wasn't doing well and had slipped out of consciousness. I started looking for a flight immediately and found one out of Atlanta, but it wasn't that easy. It didn't leave until 7 pm, and there was only one seat left open on it. I immediately asked to book it and couldn't! The flight was booked solid. But I went and sat at the airport on standby and luckily I got on! I flew to Charlotte, then Chicago and finally to Minneapolis, checking in with my family the entire way on how my grandfather was doing. My sister picked me up from the airport and I called again to see how everything was and they were reading him his last rites - I was horrified! So we switched drivers and I drove 95 the whole way there and made it in record time for us. We literally ran into the hospital and skidded around the corner and were about to sprint for the elevator when my father came around the corner. We hugged and he got me up to speed on everything. My grandfathers breathing was very labored and shallow and his heartbeat slow. We went upstairs and all wiped the tears out of our eyes and went into the room. My grandfather looked terrible, he didn't even look like himself, his had horrible jaundice and had lost a lot of weight, his head was rolled over slightly and he just looked so gaunt. It broke my heart to see my grandmother sitting over beside his bed stroking his head softly and speaking soothingly. I vowed before I left that I would cry the whole way up there and not cry there, instead be strong and supportive for my father and younger siblings. It was hard though. We told stories and shared our cherished memories with each other. Its amazing - sitting in that room with my grandfather dying, holding his hands, we found comfort and laughter in his life. We could have been sitting anywhere else the way we were laughing and carrying on. A few hours into our vigil, his breathing was still labored and he was struggling, spasming and jerking rather violently. After a lot of talking we decided to allow the hospital to give him morphine every hour. It seemed such a kind alternative to the horrific death of letting someone smother to death. The third hour, he passed away quietly, surrounded by his entire family and everyone who loved him so dearly. After all our preparation, I don't think anyone was prepared for the actual act. The incredible feeling of despair, sadness and overwhelming loss. The moment he died, his face changed and faded to a gray. Its something I wish I'd never seen and I'll never get out of my head.. it was so disturbing. The entire room cried as the priest read a verse from the bible. Oddly, even that was not comforting in the slightest. We stayed in the room for several hours, but covered his face with the sheet. Everyone had a chance to say their goodbyes, to say the things we wished we'd said days before and to hope against all of the facts, that somewhere his soul heard and understood what we were saying to the shell that was his body. Deeply moved and saddened we left the hospital for the final time, pausing to briefly make arrangements with the nurse and gently guide those completely lost to their cars. Its funny... the one thing that stuck in my mind was - how do you say goodbye to someone who's been your whole life?