My Pap Pap is the Coolest
In the past few days it's seemed that I've been all over Pennsylvania. I went to Harrisburg to see my dad's side of the family and I came back here only to find out my mother and stepfather, Paul, had driven out to Pittsburgh.
My Pap Pap had only until Tuesday but he passed away today. I don't know what to say, really. I loved ole Joe Cool. Every one did. You should've seen all the visitors he had today, over the past few days... I don't know what to say. The man was a comic genius and loved his family more than any one could ever wish for. I can't deal with it. I don't know what death is. I couldn't recognize him when I walked through the door. He was sleeping off and on and would occasionally mutter something.
I'm grateful that he got to come home instead of die amongst anonymosity in a stinkin' hospital. The man's a saint, man. My aunt Kim, especially. She bathed him over the past few days (he was only diagnosed on Thursday! WHAT THE HELL??) and washed him just a half-hour or so before he passed.
Man...we weren't even in the room. Paul was though and he saw it. He came in and asked for aunt Kim, who was in charge. She's not a nurse and she had no training, but, man, the woman knew just what to do. She did what the rest of us couldn't.
Aw, man, I can't believe this happened. Pap Pap. Mr. JOE COOL. He was yellow at the end. When people told me before I saw him, when they were "prepping" me, so to speak, I thought they meant that he was only slightly yellow. Like a baby. My grandpa, my Pap Pap was a perfect golden brown. It was so surreal. It was so strange. That couldn't have been my Pap Pap. It couldn't have been... That couldn't have been the loveable guy that when I was ten years old had asked me if I wanted a drink and when I giggled "tequila!" he had brought some out of his wine shelf. This wasn't the Pap Pap I knew. My Pap Pap was strong and funny. He wasn't meant to be bedridden. GOD, this can't be happening. Every thing is going changing too fast. I don't know how to deal with it.
My Pap Pap passed away at 3:25 in the afternoon. Just when sun began to peek out of the clouds and the snow fall began to slow and melt. He's my angel now. And I hope they have IC Light in Heaven.
I love you, Mr. Joe Cool.
My Pap Pap had only until Tuesday but he passed away today. I don't know what to say, really. I loved ole Joe Cool. Every one did. You should've seen all the visitors he had today, over the past few days... I don't know what to say. The man was a comic genius and loved his family more than any one could ever wish for. I can't deal with it. I don't know what death is. I couldn't recognize him when I walked through the door. He was sleeping off and on and would occasionally mutter something.
I'm grateful that he got to come home instead of die amongst anonymosity in a stinkin' hospital. The man's a saint, man. My aunt Kim, especially. She bathed him over the past few days (he was only diagnosed on Thursday! WHAT THE HELL??) and washed him just a half-hour or so before he passed.
Man...we weren't even in the room. Paul was though and he saw it. He came in and asked for aunt Kim, who was in charge. She's not a nurse and she had no training, but, man, the woman knew just what to do. She did what the rest of us couldn't.
Aw, man, I can't believe this happened. Pap Pap. Mr. JOE COOL. He was yellow at the end. When people told me before I saw him, when they were "prepping" me, so to speak, I thought they meant that he was only slightly yellow. Like a baby. My grandpa, my Pap Pap was a perfect golden brown. It was so surreal. It was so strange. That couldn't have been my Pap Pap. It couldn't have been... That couldn't have been the loveable guy that when I was ten years old had asked me if I wanted a drink and when I giggled "tequila!" he had brought some out of his wine shelf. This wasn't the Pap Pap I knew. My Pap Pap was strong and funny. He wasn't meant to be bedridden. GOD, this can't be happening. Every thing is going changing too fast. I don't know how to deal with it.
My Pap Pap passed away at 3:25 in the afternoon. Just when sun began to peek out of the clouds and the snow fall began to slow and melt. He's my angel now. And I hope they have IC Light in Heaven.
I love you, Mr. Joe Cool.