Here at the end of all things....again.
This is news I would have rather given you all in person, but it being so early in the morning, it was well nigh impossible to find anyone online.
As you know if you spoke with without_ascript, I went to bed unusually early because I felt sick. I had the shakes, and felt cold, and had a low-grade temperature, and emotionally felt like absolute hell. So I went to bed.
Kevin came home about quarter to eleven; he had been visiting my grandfather. He had only stopped in to drop off the Pepsi Pop had asked him to deliver, but they fell to talking. Pop showed him his old tool chest, which he has been in the process of refurbishing -- it's a marvelous chest he built himself, with lots of drawers and things, and he's been lining the drawers with felt to make it a good place to keep some of his prized coin collection. Then my mother came over with a video that she wanted Pop to see, and Kevin also, so it was convenient that he was there; it was of when the two of them remodeled her kitchen, followed by footage of Nana's 70th birthday party. Pop loved it and asked Kevin to make him a copy.
At quarter to eleven, he told me all this. I was still very tired and wanted to sleep, and after he left the room, I did precisely that. I think now that I knew something was wrong, so my body pretended to be sick to make me sleep, since once the phone rang that wasn't going to be happening anymore.
Cut to later. Kevin and I were awakened by the ringing of the phone, and Ravi's voice on the answering machine. I could tell it was him, but I couldn't make out the words, and I reached out to pick up my cell phone to find out what time it was.
"Why would Ravi be calling us at four in the morning?"
"I don't know."
So I went downstairs and played the message. It was very succinct. "Laura, this is Ravi. It's urgent. Call me on my cell."
I called; my mother answered. She sounded like she was crying. After a few odd questions, she said she needed me to come to the local hospital right away, and Kevin had to drive. She would not say why, which only scared me more. Kevin came down and I gave him this news, so we got dressed and headed over there. I knew that only for five people would I be summoned to the hospital at that hour of the morning, and two were logically eliminated already -- it couldn't be Ravi, because he called me, and it couldn't be Mom, because she answered when I called back. Which meant that something had happened to either my grandfather or one of my sisters.
She said one more thing that didn't exactly fill me with confidence. "Take your time." In other words, don't rush over here to see someone because they're on their deathbed.
I've never taken such a long ride to the hospital in my life. To give you some perspective on that, the hospital in question is right by the airport, which as many of you know is practically a stone's throw from my house. It takes all of five minutes to get there. (clez and sethoz have been to that hospital with me, to visit Nana, and I took naiadea to the emergency room there once for a migraine.) We reached the emergency room, because that was the lot in which we spotted Mom's car (distinctive license plate), and hurried inside. I gave her name at the desk, and the woman came back and said there was no one by that name admitted.
"No," said I, "she's not the patient. She called me and said to come here."
"Well, who's the patient?"
"I don't know! She wouldn't tell me!"
"Okay, well, there are no Shankars admitted here." This told me one thing -- it wasn't Liza. "Is there another name I should check?"
"Kratzer. Or Vincovitch."
A minute passed, or maybe nine years, I don't know. Then the doors opened, and we stepped in as Ravi came toward us. He was already putting his arms around me as he started speaking, which was good, because otherwise I probably would have collapsed.
"Pop-pop passed away tonight."
About an hour after Mom and Kevin left him, Pop suffered a massive heart attack. It was very quick; he felt no pain. This Friday would have been his 76th birthday, and now instead it'll be the day we have his viewing.
All my life, my grandparents have been one of my biggest sources of unconditional love. Their home was a safe place during my tumultuous childhood. My grandfather was, in many ways, like a father to me -- in some respects I was always more like their youngest child than their oldest grandchild. And now I've lost them both in the space of six months.
I'll write more later, when I have a clue. Right now, some part of me is still convinced I might wake up and find this was all a horrible, horrible nightmare.