It was a lonesome cold night when I recieved a call regarding my grandfather. As I arrived at the nursing home, my uncle took me and my brother aside. ”Now is the time to say goodbye” he lamented . My grandfather was very sick and had gotten pneumonia and had septic blood. My aunt a doctor, explained “his time here was narrowing.” “He has about three to five days to live.” I went in and told my grandpa I loved him and I would see him tomorrow. I knew there was nothing more I could do for my grandfather.Plagued with guilt I went out with friends. I came to the realization, what if this was my last good bye.
Say goodbye, how could I. To me my grandfather was superman. He was more than a grandfather he was my dad. Superman is invincible, or so I thought. The thought and sight of watching a once very strong man wielded away haunted me. I didn’t want to see my grandfather die. I remember wanting to remember my grandfather the way he was.The vice grips of sickness had change the personality and likeness of him. The last thing I wanted was to remember the sight of him holding on to life.
Bring, bring, the loud sound of the phone stirred me from my dreams.”Get over to see your grandpa now” said my mom. My grandpa’s condition had changed during the night. I remember the sight of him dying. It looked as if he was holding on with all his might. I remember praying for my grandfather the night before.My prayers seemed unanswered. I said goodbye. I kissed my grandfather’s forehead, my last memory I have of him.
My grandpa died on a frigid January night. He waited for his grandchildren to leave, before he passed away by his children’s side. On the day of his funeral, the wind had a wicked taste upon my shivering body.I believe the coldness reflected the udder sadness god felt for taking away such a great man. Certain words come to mind when describing my grandfather, happy humble and truthful. However,words that describe cant define, or let you know what type of a man he was.
His death seemed to echo like a drop of water into a deep crevasse that was once filled with hope and love. After his funeral, the next day his family met to clean out his room for the next occupant.Entering the nursing home where my grandfather died was deep and piercing. The nursing home that once echoed with love and warmth was now solemnly quiet. The sense of nothingness could be felt.
Papo’s room once filled with pictures of loved ones now felt dead. With out the man the room was completely and utterly empty. When alive his presence alone made his room fill homely, warm and accepting. The sights and sounds defined by his room made me hurt. My heart seemed empty and I felt the sense of what it is like to truly be alone.
My grandfather was never defined by his possessions, rather he was defined by what he gave. My grandfather left all the best parts of him with the family he loved. Dreams are what you make of them and accomplishments are what you work towards. Love is most important. Love is a bond that can never be broken. Love persists even after our time here on earth is gone. My Grandfather was more than that, he was a teacher and my father.He made me a man and formed my ideals and values. Never mind time, love will persist forever.
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