We had our very own John Wayne... and he was a teddy bear
What do you say about a man that was of very few words? Unless of course you were talking about what ails him... then he could go on and on. I won't make him out to be a saint or fabulous or amazing. I think my mother said it best when she said, "My father was far from perfect, but he was perfect for our family."
On the evening of June 3rd, 2012, I sat in a hospital room with my grandfather. I watched him sleep, and I was having a very difficult time saying good-bye. And yes. I had to say good-bye. It was one of those things that if I didn't say it, out loud, I would regret it for always.
I finally mustered up whatever I had left in my heart, and managed to choke it out.
There's a moment when you realize that it's the end. That what you see now is the last glimpse of life they have. Up until that evening I would only say, "see you tomorrow" or "see you later", I absolutely refused to say good-bye. Because there was a fear in my soul that wouldn't let me form those words in my throat and cough them out. But on that evening, as he seemed to sleep so peacefully, I just knew that there would be no visit the following night.
I had spent the last week visiting him at night when I could get there. He had gone into the hospital about two days after his 77th birthday, May 25th I think it was. His kidneys had failed. Not that it was a surprise or a shock. He had been told for a while now that it was only a matter of time. My grandpa was falling apart, more or less, for about 20yrs. But only in the last five years, the worst being the last two, has it gotten really bad. He had diabetes, a defibrillator put in his chest to regulate his heart beat, his legs were black from the knee down, he had fluid build up, gout... yea... a walking time bomb really.
His kidneys had given up. So that Friday he was rushed to the Foothills hospital here in Calgary (from Hanna) for emergency dialysis. I went and saw him on Friday, he was out of it. Sleeping. Nothing would've woken him up. I went back on Sunday, after running my fourth 5k race, he was still pretty much out of it. Didn't REALLY know I was there, I'm sure of that. I watched him sleep. I did that for hours. On Monday my mom called. Said I should probably go see him when I could because it was only a matter of time. At least that's what the doctors said, OBVIOUSLY they didn't know my grandfather.
I went back everyday. Getting there around 8pm and not getting back home until after 11pm. Do you know how exhausting it is to just SIT there? Not saying anything really, just listening him my grandpa complain about nurses and the likes. Yea, he woke up and he did what he always does, he complained. He thought the nurses were out to get him or that they accused him of lying. They wouldn't check on him for HOURS... oh yea... a bit of an exaggerator that man was. The nursing staff there is amazing. They would turn him every couple hours, give him pain killers every hour and a half, check on him every half hour in case he needed anything. Those people deserve so much more than the thank you I could give them in the end.
On Saturday June 2nd, as with every other day, I went to see my grandpa. Twice that day because I was alone. I went in the morning, made sure he was going to at least ATTEMPT to eat breakfast. And help him get into a more comfy position after being turned by the nurses. Give him water, change his channel. All the little things we take for granted, a LOT. He was in pain that evening. A LOT of pain. For some reason he just settle down, he kept getting twitches that would cause him to grimace. I couldn't do anything. I just sat there and listened to him, gave him what he needed when he needed it. Finally I had to leave. I told him I would see him later, and I loved him. Up until that point I hadn't said goodbye. I refused to.
The next morning with Jérôme I went to Heritage Park. My phone rang, of course I DIDN'T answer it while driving. Stupid distracted driver law, probably not as stupid as all that. I called my mom back when I got to the park. Something was wrong and she was a little hesitant to tell me because I was out having fun with Jérôme. Grandpa was going, he wasn't going to be here much longer. She and dad were going to the hospital that morning, and my grandfather would be royally pissed if I didn't go and have fun with Jérôme that morning.
So I did just that. We rode the train, rides, watched some acting, cotton candy, food, all good.
Then I got Jérôme to my in-laws house, and down to the hospital I went. Mom and dad were still there, just watching him. Grandpa had only just fallen asleep about half hour before I arrived. He was on pain killers every hour now, and it was pretty much knocking him out. They left after a bit and I sat there. Crying. What else could I do. He wasn't even awake to complain to me. Who knew how much I would miss that?
After a few hours of watching him I decided to leave to get Jérôme and go home. I got him and Xavier and Sylvain fed and off to bed. And I went back to the hospital. Still the same, nothing had changed.
But...
Something had changed.
No more twitches of pain. His legs were no longer tensed up. The swelling in his hands had gone down, and wasn't grabbing at his stomach/chest in pain. His breathing was even different. Shallower, but still difficult. His skin was cool to the touch and a bit clammy.
Oh no.
I refused at that moment to accept it. So I sat beside him and started to talk to him about various things. Xavier had gone to beaver camp that weekend and had fun. Jérôme would probably have to go into speech therapy because he's too stubborn to learn from me. Go figure.
I ate my salad, read a book and watched a bit of TV. Oh yea, watched my grandpa's cable... hehehe...
I kept watching the clock. Time seemed to be moving so fast now. The minutes were flying by, every time I looked at the clock I swear another half hour had been lost.
It was 10 o'clock. Oh geez. I have to go home soon.
"Grandpa? I don't think I can do this. I don't think I can say good-bye. I mean, if I say good-bye what's going to happen to you? I'm not sure how I feel about Heaven and Hell and all that, I don't even know how I feel about your "energy force dispersing into the larger force". What am I going to do without you?"
I glanced in the window and saw the reflection of two nurses standing in the hallway outside his room. They were waiting so patiently for me to finish so they could turn him and give him his meds. I looked over my shoulder, wiped my eyes and told them to go ahead and I would wait in the hall.
In the hallway I sat on the floor with my back against the wall and cried. Cried and cried. Until they were done and I could go back in. There he was, turned and dressed clean.
Beside his bed I was stroking his hair; tears rolling down my cheeks and falling on his clean sheets. I leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.
"I have to go home now grandpa. It's time for me to say good-bye. Which means it's time for you to go home now. You're done here, rest your heart and your mind for a while. If I have to say good-bye, so do you. If you make me come back here and pay for another night of parking tomorrow I'm gonna kick your butt."
"Good-bye. I love you. Very much."
At the door I turned and took one last look at him. He looked so peaceful. Finally. There was no pain. There was nothing to complain about. That's when I left as quickly as I could.
Driving home I didn't cry, I didn't think about anything. I just sang to whatever songs came on the radio. I got home, put the car in park, got into the house and just stood there. In the dark I stood there and took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Then I went upstairs to go to bed. The house was quiet, everybody was in bed.
Crap. The phone is ringing...
At 11:11pm my mom called me. My grandpa had passed. He had left about 20min or so before she called.
Stubborn to the very end. My grandpa waited until I was at least down the elevator before he took his last breath.
I cried. Not really from sadness. From relief. He was at peace.
Wow... looking back at this blog... I guess a man of few words doesn't have to say much when his grand-daughter starts talking.
We all got together the weekend after he had passed, to celebrate his life. It's amazing to see how many people a grumpy can have. He had a lot and he was loved by all of them.
My mom and I were the only ones that said anything about my grandfather, she had an amazing eulogy, and now I have an idea of where my writing skills came from. Hehehe...
The sun goes down, the stars come out.
And all that counts is here and now.
My universe will never be the same.
I'm glad you came...
These are the lyrics to a song that I heard every night I left the hospital. Two things went through my mind after a few nights. The first being that this radio station has a habit of recycling their playlist, and the second was how true these words to how I had been feeling.
It didn't matter what I had done in the past or what I hadn't done. The only thing that matters is what I'm doing now. Spending time with my grandpa before he leaves this life.
When I was growing up, he taught me a few things, some lessons were... questionable... but I remember them all the same. The most important thing, aside from you can fix any engine with a wrench, screw driver and hammer, was no matter what I did, I am amazing.
I must've spent more time with him the his last two weeks than I had in the last decade. And although he was sick and in pain, he learned me a few more things:
~ As I look on at this gigantic man laying in a hospital bed, dressed in a pale blue, flowery night gown, watching racing; he's trying to pull his blanket up a bit. He's eaten, had his meds and complained about every nurse he's had so far, but maybe he's cold.
"Grandpa? Do you want me to move that?"
"No."
"Okay."
After a few more attempts he gruffs and looks at me.
"I guess I better quit while I'm ahead."
I smiled at him, sort of understanding.
"That means you too, sweetie."
"What's that, grandpa?"
"Stop, so you can see what's ahead." ~
He may not have meant that to sound as deep and insightful as it did, but that comment will always make me think and affect me in a way that is indescribable.
 |
| A look-alike in his younger years, my mom and her siblings always said they had their very own John Wayne. |
On the evening of June 3rd, 2012, I sat in a hospital room with my grandfather. I watched him sleep, and I was having a very difficult time saying good-bye. And yes. I had to say good-bye. It was one of those things that if I didn't say it, out loud, I would regret it for always.
I finally mustered up whatever I had left in my heart, and managed to choke it out.
There's a moment when you realize that it's the end. That what you see now is the last glimpse of life they have. Up until that evening I would only say, "see you tomorrow" or "see you later", I absolutely refused to say good-bye. Because there was a fear in my soul that wouldn't let me form those words in my throat and cough them out. But on that evening, as he seemed to sleep so peacefully, I just knew that there would be no visit the following night.
I had spent the last week visiting him at night when I could get there. He had gone into the hospital about two days after his 77th birthday, May 25th I think it was. His kidneys had failed. Not that it was a surprise or a shock. He had been told for a while now that it was only a matter of time. My grandpa was falling apart, more or less, for about 20yrs. But only in the last five years, the worst being the last two, has it gotten really bad. He had diabetes, a defibrillator put in his chest to regulate his heart beat, his legs were black from the knee down, he had fluid build up, gout... yea... a walking time bomb really.
His kidneys had given up. So that Friday he was rushed to the Foothills hospital here in Calgary (from Hanna) for emergency dialysis. I went and saw him on Friday, he was out of it. Sleeping. Nothing would've woken him up. I went back on Sunday, after running my fourth 5k race, he was still pretty much out of it. Didn't REALLY know I was there, I'm sure of that. I watched him sleep. I did that for hours. On Monday my mom called. Said I should probably go see him when I could because it was only a matter of time. At least that's what the doctors said, OBVIOUSLY they didn't know my grandfather.
I went back everyday. Getting there around 8pm and not getting back home until after 11pm. Do you know how exhausting it is to just SIT there? Not saying anything really, just listening him my grandpa complain about nurses and the likes. Yea, he woke up and he did what he always does, he complained. He thought the nurses were out to get him or that they accused him of lying. They wouldn't check on him for HOURS... oh yea... a bit of an exaggerator that man was. The nursing staff there is amazing. They would turn him every couple hours, give him pain killers every hour and a half, check on him every half hour in case he needed anything. Those people deserve so much more than the thank you I could give them in the end.
On Saturday June 2nd, as with every other day, I went to see my grandpa. Twice that day because I was alone. I went in the morning, made sure he was going to at least ATTEMPT to eat breakfast. And help him get into a more comfy position after being turned by the nurses. Give him water, change his channel. All the little things we take for granted, a LOT. He was in pain that evening. A LOT of pain. For some reason he just settle down, he kept getting twitches that would cause him to grimace. I couldn't do anything. I just sat there and listened to him, gave him what he needed when he needed it. Finally I had to leave. I told him I would see him later, and I loved him. Up until that point I hadn't said goodbye. I refused to.
The next morning with Jérôme I went to Heritage Park. My phone rang, of course I DIDN'T answer it while driving. Stupid distracted driver law, probably not as stupid as all that. I called my mom back when I got to the park. Something was wrong and she was a little hesitant to tell me because I was out having fun with Jérôme. Grandpa was going, he wasn't going to be here much longer. She and dad were going to the hospital that morning, and my grandfather would be royally pissed if I didn't go and have fun with Jérôme that morning.
So I did just that. We rode the train, rides, watched some acting, cotton candy, food, all good.
Then I got Jérôme to my in-laws house, and down to the hospital I went. Mom and dad were still there, just watching him. Grandpa had only just fallen asleep about half hour before I arrived. He was on pain killers every hour now, and it was pretty much knocking him out. They left after a bit and I sat there. Crying. What else could I do. He wasn't even awake to complain to me. Who knew how much I would miss that?
After a few hours of watching him I decided to leave to get Jérôme and go home. I got him and Xavier and Sylvain fed and off to bed. And I went back to the hospital. Still the same, nothing had changed.
But...
Something had changed.
No more twitches of pain. His legs were no longer tensed up. The swelling in his hands had gone down, and wasn't grabbing at his stomach/chest in pain. His breathing was even different. Shallower, but still difficult. His skin was cool to the touch and a bit clammy.
Oh no.
I refused at that moment to accept it. So I sat beside him and started to talk to him about various things. Xavier had gone to beaver camp that weekend and had fun. Jérôme would probably have to go into speech therapy because he's too stubborn to learn from me. Go figure.
I ate my salad, read a book and watched a bit of TV. Oh yea, watched my grandpa's cable... hehehe...
I kept watching the clock. Time seemed to be moving so fast now. The minutes were flying by, every time I looked at the clock I swear another half hour had been lost.
It was 10 o'clock. Oh geez. I have to go home soon.
"Grandpa? I don't think I can do this. I don't think I can say good-bye. I mean, if I say good-bye what's going to happen to you? I'm not sure how I feel about Heaven and Hell and all that, I don't even know how I feel about your "energy force dispersing into the larger force". What am I going to do without you?"
I glanced in the window and saw the reflection of two nurses standing in the hallway outside his room. They were waiting so patiently for me to finish so they could turn him and give him his meds. I looked over my shoulder, wiped my eyes and told them to go ahead and I would wait in the hall.
In the hallway I sat on the floor with my back against the wall and cried. Cried and cried. Until they were done and I could go back in. There he was, turned and dressed clean.
Beside his bed I was stroking his hair; tears rolling down my cheeks and falling on his clean sheets. I leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.
"I have to go home now grandpa. It's time for me to say good-bye. Which means it's time for you to go home now. You're done here, rest your heart and your mind for a while. If I have to say good-bye, so do you. If you make me come back here and pay for another night of parking tomorrow I'm gonna kick your butt."
"Good-bye. I love you. Very much."
At the door I turned and took one last look at him. He looked so peaceful. Finally. There was no pain. There was nothing to complain about. That's when I left as quickly as I could.
Driving home I didn't cry, I didn't think about anything. I just sang to whatever songs came on the radio. I got home, put the car in park, got into the house and just stood there. In the dark I stood there and took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Then I went upstairs to go to bed. The house was quiet, everybody was in bed.
Crap. The phone is ringing...
At 11:11pm my mom called me. My grandpa had passed. He had left about 20min or so before she called.
Stubborn to the very end. My grandpa waited until I was at least down the elevator before he took his last breath.
I cried. Not really from sadness. From relief. He was at peace.
 |
| My grandpa and Jérôme (at about 6mos old) |
Wow... looking back at this blog... I guess a man of few words doesn't have to say much when his grand-daughter starts talking.
We all got together the weekend after he had passed, to celebrate his life. It's amazing to see how many people a grumpy can have. He had a lot and he was loved by all of them.
My mom and I were the only ones that said anything about my grandfather, she had an amazing eulogy, and now I have an idea of where my writing skills came from. Hehehe...
The sun goes down, the stars come out.
And all that counts is here and now.
My universe will never be the same.
I'm glad you came...
These are the lyrics to a song that I heard every night I left the hospital. Two things went through my mind after a few nights. The first being that this radio station has a habit of recycling their playlist, and the second was how true these words to how I had been feeling.
It didn't matter what I had done in the past or what I hadn't done. The only thing that matters is what I'm doing now. Spending time with my grandpa before he leaves this life.
When I was growing up, he taught me a few things, some lessons were... questionable... but I remember them all the same. The most important thing, aside from you can fix any engine with a wrench, screw driver and hammer, was no matter what I did, I am amazing.
I must've spent more time with him the his last two weeks than I had in the last decade. And although he was sick and in pain, he learned me a few more things:
- no matter what, he'll always call me sweetie
- when strong people cry, it's not weakness, it's because they've been strong for too long
- I raised a good family
- hospital food always has and always will be gross
- and needing my grandpa is something I will never outgrow
~ As I look on at this gigantic man laying in a hospital bed, dressed in a pale blue, flowery night gown, watching racing; he's trying to pull his blanket up a bit. He's eaten, had his meds and complained about every nurse he's had so far, but maybe he's cold.
"Grandpa? Do you want me to move that?"
"No."
"Okay."
After a few more attempts he gruffs and looks at me.
"I guess I better quit while I'm ahead."
I smiled at him, sort of understanding.
"That means you too, sweetie."
"What's that, grandpa?"
"Stop, so you can see what's ahead." ~
He may not have meant that to sound as deep and insightful as it did, but that comment will always make me think and affect me in a way that is indescribable.
Such a very insightful blog, Tanya. Your grandpa would have been proud to read it.
ReplyDelete