I have only seen my father cry twice in my life.
The first time was after the traumatic birth of Moo.
The other was today…
~~~~~~~~
I was awoken this morning by the phone ringing. Boo laying beside me, my eyes flew open, confused at the sound, at the dark.
The phone rang out as I got to it. It rang again.
Darkness. Phone ringing. Can only be bad news.
It was my mother. My grandfather had another fall and was in the hospital. Not expected to hang on for much longer. Get some clothes on, we are going NOW.
Two and a half hours in the car, not knowing what will greet us at the hospital.
I could hear him before we got to the room. Hard laboured breaths. Punctuated with a moan.
Tiny. He was tiny. This tiny, tiny man. Stripped of all dignity. Eyes open but blank. Mouth gaping, gasping for breath. Teeth gone.
Tears stung my eyes, but I need to be strong. I know he can hear me.
‘Hello Grandpa’ I whispered as I bent down to kiss his cheek. His sunken cheek. His hair messed up.
Such a proud strong dignified man, reduced to this.
Cancer of the liver and lungs. Mother fucker.
I focused on his hair. My mission. To ensure that his hair looked neat and tidy. I obsessed. His hair, to me, was the only thing that reminded me of the man I saw a few short weeks ago. A man who was terribly thin, but the light and spark still in his blue eyes. Dancing with mischief and mirth as I walked into that hospital room a lifetime ago.
Tiny. He is so tiny.
I look at my mother. ‘I don’t think I can do this again’ I mouth to her. He looks just like my Nanna. Her mother. My Nanna whose hand I held while she took her last breath. Whose eyes I closed. Whose hair I stroked while the room moved slowly around me the sounds of her final moments ringing in my ears. A week. I sat there for a week while she slowly died. Nil by mouth. A story for another day.
The nurses fussed around us. Couldn’t ask for more wonderful angels to witness his passing. They moved us from emergency to a private room. A double room, the other bed removed so we could have space. This is the kindness only afforded by a small country hospital.
Hours go by. The silence in the room only broken by his laboured breathing. The hiss of the oxygen. The crumple of tissues and sniffing back of tears.
His hair is immaculate. I focus on looking at his hair. I take my position on the other side of the bed, the side he is facing away from because I cannot bear to see his face. I want to see that hair, the hair of my grandpa. Not this dying man.
They need to turn him so we are ushered into another room. Tea, coffee, biscuits, juice are offered but are left untouched. We stare at another view, the tops of buildings out the window while we wait.
When we get back into the room he is turned but his breathing is loud. There is a rattle.
My mother and I know what this means. My father is blissfully unaware as is the other person (I can’t talk about her now. I have my reasons) they think it is just fluid or something. That rattle.
The nurse comes in and ups his morphine. Gives him a needle to ‘make him more comfortable and clear up the mucus’. The others sigh in relief. My mother and I steal ourselves. We have been here before, not long now.
I stroke his hair as his breathing becomes more shallow and the rattling reduces. He looks so peaceful even though his eyes are still open and unfocused.
And then he is gone. Just like that. No fanfare. No deep breath. No long exhale.
Gone.
Peacefully. Quietly. With dignity.
My last grandparent. Two died alone. Two with me holding their hands.
I hugged my father. He looked at his. He looked away. Proud like his own father. Hiding his feelings.
In the car on the way home he sat in the back. I heard him cry quietly as we travelled the hours away from that hospital room where his father lay.
{ 88 comments }
no other words just loads of *hugs* for you sweety
I’m sorry for your loss Kelley.
My prayers with you and your family.
Sympathetic hugs from here too.
xxx
Thinking of you and your family.
oh, babe. this hits close to home. xoxo
Hugs and my deepest sympathies. I know what it’s like to lose a grandparent to ravaging illness. My heart goes out to you.
Oh honey, I am so sorry. Nothing anyone could say would make it at all better but know that you are loved and are lifted up through this!
I know this was a hard thing to live through and a hard thing to write, but you did an extraordinary job of conveying the moment.
Hugs Kel. Words seem so inadequate, especially after your beautiful writing. Take care.
Ohhhhhhhh oh oh oh oh oh oh.
oh.
oh.
I’m so sorry. So very, very sorry.
I am truly heartbroken for you Kelley.
…and desperately sad too.
Remember our last conversation though, remember his cheekiness, his funny mannerisms, his kind and thoughtful ways… all the good stuff that’s supposed to try and help you feel better.
Will speak soon, my friend. Take care
Fee
I’m so sorry. I’m sending you thoughts of healing today.
You gave your grandparents an amazing gift.
I wasn’t able to do that for my father. He died very suddenly and I lived an hour away. Years later I cared for Hospice patients. They all told me all they wanted was to have someone hold their hand while they passed.
I’m sure your grandfather knew you were there and felt your love.
Peace and healing to you.
I am so sorry for your loss.
hugs, hugs, and more hugs…
All my love to you all sweety. xxx
I’m so sorry. And you know since we’re twins and all, I would gladly share my grandparents with you, they would adore you.
So tender. Deepest sympathy to you.
To be there – a priceless gift.
Thank you for sharing the moment.
((hugs))
I’m sorry for you loss, Kelley.
This brings back memories of my mom’s death. And I’m glad for that.
I’m happy you were there with your grandpa. You described the experience in a way I’m sure he’d be proud of.
Thanks for sharing this. And I’m very sorry.
It has been a tough year for you, my dear. I am so very, very sorry.
Aww. Kelley. I am so sorry.
Tell your Dad … I cried, too.
Oh, Kelley. So sorry for your loss. ((hugs)) to you and your family.
I’m so so so sorry. I can’t imagine going through that a second time. Once was too much more than enough for me. Really, this was a really good piece of writing too – the rattle put me right back in my own memory, in my father’s hospital room.
I am so sorry for the loss. It is never easy to lose a family member and it’s always harder to say goodbye. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. *hugs*
Oh, Kelley. I am so sorry. Just so sorry.
When my gramma was gone, it was her hands for me. I hadn’t seen her since I was 9 or 10. When I saw her in her casket, I could only see her hands. I can still remember them perfectly today, almost 20 years later.
Hugs to your family.
My thoughts are with you and your family. You are strong, and I know you’re strong for your father.
Kelley, I am so very sorry for your loss. Your writing is so expressive, took me back to last spring when I discovered my father, in his hospice bed, my mother asleep in a chair by his side, was no longer breathing. I am sure your grandfather knew you were all there and he passed surrounded by love. My thoughts are with you and your family. Take care.
I’m terribly sorry for your loss Kelley. I lost my mom in a similar way years ago and it still stings. The indignities of cancer stretch to the end but your grandfather knew you were there even if he couldn’t show it.
Peace to you and your family.
*crying*
Hugs to you, my friend.
Very sorry.
All the best for the coming days.
Oh hon, I’m so sorry. You’ve just been through hell and back a couple dozen times lately haven’t you? {{hugs}}
I don’t know what to say. Just sending big, big hugs…
I’ll keep you and your family on my dreamtime healing list. I’m so sorry you have had yet another arse-kicking from life. You wrote about it so beautifully.
hugs, kel. i’m so sorry.
Kelley, I’m so so sorry
(((HUGS)))
I’m so sorry Kelley. XOXO to you and your family.
I’m sorry for your loss.
I’m so so sorry, hon
Please, pass on my love and respects to your family xx
I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m so glad you were able to be there at the end. Blessings, Kelley.
So sorry for your loss, Kelley. Hugs.
:: tears ::
I’m sorry.
Love and hugs babe.
So sorry Kelley,
thinking of you and your family,
G
xx
I’m so sorry for your loss, friend. You and your family are in my prayers.
Sending you and your family love and peace.
Oh sweetie. I won’t say I’m sorry, because seriously, platitudes just don’t cut it.
I’m glad that you were there with him, that you got that time to say goodbye. Wishing you strength for the next few months.
{{hugs}} My deepest sympathy Kel.
I am so sorry for your loss Kelley. I wish I could send you a hug, but the best I can do is keep you and your family in my thoughts. And say I’m so so sorry.
My sympathies Kelley.
Although it was difficult and very close to your loss earlier this year, I’m sure you wouldn’t have been anywhere else.
Some moments, some years, just define us.
Thinking of you hon
Very beautifully written, Kelley, and my thoughts are with your family. In my own similar but always different way I totally get it about the hair. Be gentle with yourself for awhile, OK?
Oh babe, my heart just broke for you. Hugs to you and your family. I will be thinking of you!
I am so sorry for your loss but thankful that you could be there for his passing.
Your grandfather died with his loving family surrounding him and whilst it is so painful for you, it was a blessing for him.
Be strong in this dark time. Soon you will be able to remember him as the wonderful grandfather he was with his delightful sense of humour and his amazing hair.
I saw your Plurk. I’m so sorry you had to witness death of someone you loved. That is not fair and I can only imagine how tough it was for you. I’ll be praying for you guys. My dad reacted the same way.
I am so sorry. Kel. You and your family are in my thoughts.
*hugggggggggggggggggggggg*
I’m so sorry Kelley.
…and thank you for sharing. Your words took me right back through some unhappy memories … but important memories. Thankyou.
Hug.
I’m sorry. Thinking of you.
I’m so sorry sweets. Hugs for all of you.
sending my love and hugs hun, im so sorry
Beautifully written. *hugs*
I’m so sorry for your loss Kelley. I don’t know what to say, but you and your family are in my thoughts. Take care. *hug*
I’m so sorry. I’ll be thinking of you, and your family, and hoping you can find comfort.
Kel
That was some amazing writing. My thoughts are with you and your family at this sad time.
Beautifully written, reminds me of my own grandfathers passing. Standing with my father, arm around him whilst his father died. Love to you and your family during this hard time.
Aww Kelley, that is terrible!
Hugs to you and your family! My thoughts are with you.
Tiny, so tiny. My Mother. From 15 stone to 85 lbs. A puff of wind could have blown her away. I wasn’t there for her passing, my brother held her as she breathed her last breath.
I know exactly how you feel. {{{HUGS}}}
I’m sorry hun. Big hugs to you and your family.
I lost my grandma 10 months ago. We were very close, even though she lived in the UK and I hadn’t seen her since I was 4. We got a phone call at 4am from my dad who had flown out to be with her. I wish I could have held her hand.
Hey, maybe they’re partying up a storm?
I am so sorry for your loss Kelley. Hugs to you and your family.
Kelley, I’m so sorry for your loss. I was with my grandmother when she passed away. I will never forget that moment. Hugs to you and stay strong.
Oh Kelley…It’s taken me so long just to be able to leave a comment. I hope you can forgive me. I have been thinking of you though and sending thoughts of comfort and healing your way.
Our deepest sympathies, sweetie, to you and your family.
Sending hugs and love across the big deep pond.
Audrey, G, lil G, Megawatt and the rest of the crew at our place.
Ugh, the death rattle. I know it well.
I’m so sorry about your grandpa – he sounds like a good man. It must have been a huge comfort to him that you were there holding his hand, helping him to peace.
Oh Kelley. My thoughts are with you and your family.
I’m terribly sorry for your loss.
I am so sorry Kelley. Having sat with my mother through the same thing, I so truly understand your pain. Your grandpa surely loved that you were there for him even if he couldn’t tell you…just know that you were a blessing to him when he would have wanted it most. Sending thoughts your way.
Awww girl, I’m sorry for your Dad, your family’s, and your loss….
I’ll keep you guys in my thoughts.
It doesn’t get any easier..I wish I could tell you it does. In October my parents will be 87 and 82..every day is a miracle..falls, nursing homes, dementia..then out of the blue my husband loses his stepdad, uncle and grandma in a year. I’d love to make a deal to have a year of living without death..but it doesn’t work that way. Does it make us stronger? I don’t know. Through the years of death I’ve lost a bit of faith, opposite of how you are supposed to feel. I guess. You aren’t alone..you know that. xoxo
I’m so sorry Kel.
There are no words but yours are beautiful.
Hugs.
Thinking of you.
I’m so sorry, K.
What a beautiful thing to do for your grandfather. I watch other people watching their own family members fade away – and always the hair, the smoothing of the hair, like some ritual from the past. I feel that it is such a privelege and honour to be able to provide comfort to both the person who is dying and their family. And you are right – there are some things that you will only get in a small country hospital. Hugs to you Kelley
I am so sorry Kelley.
Hugs.. and thinking of you…
I’m sorry for your loss Kelley
Oh wow. How you described this, I felt like I was standing in the corner of that room. So vivid. Thanks for writing it, I wish I’d been able to hold my Grandparent’s hands through the end, what an honour. I miss my Grandma, but I still feel her around, I bet you haven’t heard the last from your Grandpa either :’)
oh. i am just catching up on posts and i am so sorry, kelley.
Oh Kelley, I am so sorry to hear this. You write so well that I could feel your pain.
(((hugs)))
I’m drunk on wine and catching up on everything I’ve missed.
I missed the rattle – but I know the labored breaths. And the hair. After my grandpa died when I was 16, I kept touching his hair because that still felt the same. It felt normal.
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