A bucket of tears

Sometimes not even a good, hard cry will fix things or make them better...and sometimes not even a whole evening of laying in bed with Grandma, crying together, will help either. The price of free rent at Grandma and Grandpa's is now being paid at a high rate, with my emotions. Living here the past three weeks has been hard, to say the least. My heart can't take anymore. I feel so selfish saying that though, like I am the only one having a difficult time watching Grandpa slowly and painfully die. It is one thing to lose someone you love and care about, it is a completely different experience though having the whole situation integrated as part of your daily life.

I took a few days off last week to do some job hunting in DC and felt as guilty as a parent must feel, leaving their infant behind while vacationing. I came back feeling a little bit lighter than when I had left, emotionally speaking. However, after watching Grandma break down sobbing tonight, my heart aches and feels heavier than ever. She has been so upbeat and positive the past 3 weeks during this rapid decline in Grandpa's health - joking that she hopes he doesn't expect her to follow him too quickly because she wants to party some more and she has been finding the strength to do all she can for her life-long lover and friend. She has been so strong, mustering up everything that she has left to give to him. I laid in her twin bed with her while she went through the emotions and realization that it is time for Grandpa to go. The decision was made today between Harold and Grandpa, to bring hospice in tomorrow, as the pain is too great for Grandpa to bear any longer. I presume they may give him some morphine, which I imagine will be enough for him to slip into a peaceful sleeping coma...who knows though. I am not sure he will last the week, although I thought that a month ago and he's still here. This time it is different though and I think we all know it. It is hard to see him suffer, confused and, at times, gasping for air. I cannot believe how quickly he has gone down hill; it has been so hard to watch.

Grandpa's health quickly plunged a few weeks ago,on a Thursday evening shortly after I walked in the house, after spending an hour in my car, talking on the phone to a friend in Baltimore. Thoughts of my rather lengthy and emotional conversation quickly escaped me as I realized Grandpa was grasping for air and was beginning to cry as he walked into his bedroom. Shoeing away anyone that came close to the room, I think out of embarrassment, he welcomed me in to wipe away his tears. I am not sure why he was okay with me being in there, but it made me feel special. I sat with him for about an hour that night, until Harold made it to the house; I let him take over from there. Things have not been the same since. There was a 2 week period following that Thursday night where I didn't see him awake once. I am grateful he's been able to sleep so much, but feel sad that his suffering isn't over yet. Tonight, after Grandma was able to spend some time alone, talking with him, Shirl and I sat in there while Grandpa expressed his love and appreciation and Grandma talked until Grandpa dozed off. It felt....peaceful, despite the river of tears streaming down each of our faces.  

Hence, there is a time to go ahead and a time to stay behind.

There is a time to breathe easy and a time to breathe hard.

There is a time to be vigorous and a time to be gentle.

There is a time to gather and a time to release.

Can you see things as they are

And let them be all on their own?

~ Lao-tzu