I want to tell the story of family, love, life, and death.
Who we are. We are a family that loves and supports one another. We are there at our strongest and we are there at our weakest. Through everything, we come together for one another. We team up and battle life together. We hug and cry together. We laugh and play together. I love my family and our great support system we have for each other.
My grandpa has not been in very good condition for a couple of years; He lived with my mom for 2 years while she was his sole care-taker for one of those two years. She finally hired help to take care of him during the day while she could work. I lived with her for 3 months out of those 19 months Papaw lived with her. Daily while I was there, I helped change his diapers. Feed him. Clean his sheets. Get him to bed. He was unable to ANYthing himself, totally dependent on someone else to sustain life. On occasion, my mom would go out of town for a day or two and would ask me to come over and take care of him after I moved out. But for the most part, she handled everything for 19 months; I only had a few small glance into how difficult her life was with him being there. We are not educated in being a care-giver for someone who completely relies on someone else. It is definitely a struggle and takes an emotional toll on everyone involved. But also, that is when I really began to have an attachment toward my grandpa. Seeing him at his worst moments, taking care of him how a mother would take care of a newborn; keeping him warm, safe, fed, and clean. Giving him stimulation to keep the brain active. Encouraging him.
We knew he was declining rapidly over the summer. That is why we made the decision to have him somewhere else with professional around the clock care to suit his needs better. But you can still never be fully prepared for when God decides he wants someone back home with him, instead of on this earth.
One day, we got a phone call that said to come see him right away, he only has a few short days left, if at all, on Earth. We made arrangements to get up to see him the very next day. That next day was August 26, 2015. I remember everything. I think I was taking it slow and taking it all in.
He was completely unresponsive to us. He couldn't blink his eyes, move a finger, or anything. It was almost like he was in a coma with his eyes wide open. He wasn't. I believe he was alert inside and heard us, felt us.
We were with him for about 4 hours that afternoon and evening; visiting with each other, but loud enough that he would be able to hear us and know we were there beside him. Then I got this bad feeling and went to talk to him again. I put my hand on his and asked him if he could feel it. He can’t give any kind of movement or signal, but I still asked. I saw his right lip twitch upward a little bit for only a second. And I told him “ah! I see that big smile!!” Can you smile again like that? Let me know you can feel me and hear me papaw.” And he did it one more time. I know it was barely a movement at all, but it was a huge thing for me. I got really excited knowing he could feel and hear me. He was trying to communicate but his body was just frozen in place.
Shortly after that, his breathing slowed way down, almost non-existent. We got a nurse to check his heart rate and she barely heard a flutter. Then she moved to check his chest, and heard nothing. He had just taken his last breath while we were standing beside him. I was holding his hand, and talking to him. Telling him what the nurse was doing; asking him questions. And then he was no more.
A couple minutes later I realized what had really happened, and it’s amazing. It’s sad, but it’s amazing and powerful. To be present and watch someone take in a breath, and then just stop. Knowing that they were comforted with you holding their hand. Knowing that they were not alone. And looking back, I’m thinking that the smile I saw may have been when he was beginning to see the light, and may have seen my grandma standing there waiting for him to come back to her in Heaven. (or my other grandma. I used to joke about fixing him up with my mom’s mom for years, maybe she was there waiting for him too.) He was comforted with me touching him and talking to him, and it helped ease him into transition to another life.
Believe what you want, I will believe in God and Heaven and faith and strength and peace and kindness and the afterlife.
 |
| Comforting him (and me) |
 |
| This was within his final moments |
No comments:
Post a Comment