How bout some more...
Where to begin. Well thanksgiving break started out a little shitty and went downhill from there. A few days before the LSU/Bama game my grandfather, we called him J, he never wanted to be called "grandad" and his name was John and people called him JW, but we called him J. Anyway he went into the emergency room and Princeton Hospital. He was eventually moved to the ICU. They diagnosed him with pneumonia. Imagine looking at an 81 year old male, his charts list COPD caused by black lung and CHF, been on oxygen for 5 years, just diagnosed with pneumonia, how do you think this will play out. Eventually he was moved to a room and then to pulmonary therapy floor. Just bying him some time the doctor told us. He was good enough to us to make it through Thanksgiving day, I dont think he wanted us to suffer every year on that day. At 2:30 the following sunday morning he passed away, the way he should have, just went to sleep and drifted away from us. Shit I miss him! I know he was suffering and at times I wished it was me instead of him and I know that now he doesnt suffer but I miss him being here. The world seems a little quieter and a little less safe without him here. Oh shit, there were nights where he would cry out in pain and say that he couldnt breathe and call for God to take him. There were times I would sit there in the waiting room, surrounded by family and feel completely alone. I realized that the end was here and would quietly pray that God would make it swift, gently, and soon. Eventually, at His time and his time, God showed up. There were also times that he would just stare at you, or through you, looking somewhere else, not knowing the loved ones in front of him, not knowing where he was, but there was also this look that he knew exactly what was going on and he was comforted and scared all at the same time. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, sit there and watch him leave, and it lasted for weeks. He was a fighter and a strong man. Up until the end his other vitals were where they should have been. His lungs were gone but his spirit wasnt ready. The body quit on him.
The oddest thing was that two days before he sat up in bed and suddenly gave us a few hours of what we had longed for and what we needed before he left, a few moments of the old him. He was awake and alert and knew people. Would call for them, would laugh with them and would seemingly make total sense. That was the last good night, but God we needed it. And I got one last firm handshake. As long as I can remember he has a strong grasp and he's the man that taught me how to shake hands, and that will be the last memory I have of him, not the moments after, that wasnt him. But that last firm handshake it what I can never forget and will continue it until I am done here. Come to find out later, this moment of clairity is usually followed by death. I dont know why, but my family had heard it happens and it does. Perhaps it is one last chance to say good bye or to be told good-bye but for whatever reason I glad it happens.
What followed his passing is relatively unimportant, there were days of crying, but there were days of crying before that too. The viewing and funeral took place like all do. And people still asked the idiotic question "how are you doing?" You give them the answer you know they want to hear but it isnt always true. Eventually you want to tell them to "fuck off" but you cant. We said good-bye and sent him on his way with a few notes and a pack of chewing tobacco, Levi Garrett, his brand, his asked for it many times in the hospital. The most amusing moment was at the grave. It was purely him all the way. They released pigeons and they flew around and they took out another pigeon that was to represent him and would rejoin the flock and leave. Well before they did that the bird shit on the man holding him. It was everything I could do to keep from laughing, but that's the way J would have had. One last joke.
Their house is quiet now, I went over there this past weekend, and it's too quiet. The hum of the oxygen machine was gone, taken back and sent to someone that can use it. There's no one sitting one the coach, that spitting noise, and him calling for "Mildred" my grandmother. "mildred, can you bring me some water." "Mildred i'm hungry what we got to eat." They were old school, he took care of her and his family during his working years. She took care of him during his last. May we all be so lucky to have someone stand beside us and lead us home. In fact before he left he told her that he loved her, and then went to sleep. Tragic, beautiful, everything, but it tore me up. Anyway, life moves on as it must and she will overcome. Her children and grandchildren have then beside her and have stayed with her everynight. She will never spend a night by herself because she doesnt remember how, but eventhough she is surrounded she is alone. I miss him and I dont know if I'll ever be the same.
The oddest thing was that two days before he sat up in bed and suddenly gave us a few hours of what we had longed for and what we needed before he left, a few moments of the old him. He was awake and alert and knew people. Would call for them, would laugh with them and would seemingly make total sense. That was the last good night, but God we needed it. And I got one last firm handshake. As long as I can remember he has a strong grasp and he's the man that taught me how to shake hands, and that will be the last memory I have of him, not the moments after, that wasnt him. But that last firm handshake it what I can never forget and will continue it until I am done here. Come to find out later, this moment of clairity is usually followed by death. I dont know why, but my family had heard it happens and it does. Perhaps it is one last chance to say good bye or to be told good-bye but for whatever reason I glad it happens.
What followed his passing is relatively unimportant, there were days of crying, but there were days of crying before that too. The viewing and funeral took place like all do. And people still asked the idiotic question "how are you doing?" You give them the answer you know they want to hear but it isnt always true. Eventually you want to tell them to "fuck off" but you cant. We said good-bye and sent him on his way with a few notes and a pack of chewing tobacco, Levi Garrett, his brand, his asked for it many times in the hospital. The most amusing moment was at the grave. It was purely him all the way. They released pigeons and they flew around and they took out another pigeon that was to represent him and would rejoin the flock and leave. Well before they did that the bird shit on the man holding him. It was everything I could do to keep from laughing, but that's the way J would have had. One last joke.
Their house is quiet now, I went over there this past weekend, and it's too quiet. The hum of the oxygen machine was gone, taken back and sent to someone that can use it. There's no one sitting one the coach, that spitting noise, and him calling for "Mildred" my grandmother. "mildred, can you bring me some water." "Mildred i'm hungry what we got to eat." They were old school, he took care of her and his family during his working years. She took care of him during his last. May we all be so lucky to have someone stand beside us and lead us home. In fact before he left he told her that he loved her, and then went to sleep. Tragic, beautiful, everything, but it tore me up. Anyway, life moves on as it must and she will overcome. Her children and grandchildren have then beside her and have stayed with her everynight. She will never spend a night by herself because she doesnt remember how, but eventhough she is surrounded she is alone. I miss him and I dont know if I'll ever be the same.