Saturday, January 7, 2012

My Grandfather is dying.
I usually am not one to blog about serious stuff. I mean, the birth of my daughter (with an insanely graphic, amazing, beautiful picture included) sure, but some things are just best not to share. There are  a lot of things I choose not to share and that is why I go weeks without writing. Sometimes life is just fucked. It's too deep.
Now is that time but I am choosing to let myself off the hook. 
Death is something I have not had to deal with much. I have not been spared this incredibly desperate tragedy but it is not something that has plagued my life. I'm lucky, I think. 
Right now though... I am feeling every bit the pain and agony that surrounds this part of everyone's life. No matter how much or how little we have to deal with death, I am firm believer that it sucks all the same.
So he's dying and I can't do anything about it. He is old, but not old enough. He will be leaving behind my Grandmother and I worry about her. Where will she go? Who will she love? And- can she die of a broken heart?
I will. I will absolutely lose a huge part of myself when he dies. I will never recover, I will never ever be the same. He was the father I never had and the Grandfather everyone wanted. He spent quality time with my son, who absolutely thinks of him as a Grandfather- not a Great Grandfather. He showed him how to work on cars and told him stories. He played butterflies with my daughter, she read him stories. He held her when she was a baby and was proud I named her after his beautiful wife of over 60 years. I am so glad I had children early in life. In a lot of ways I believe my life played out like it did so I could share him with them, they are better people because of it. My husband never met his Grandparents, mine were happy to take him in. The fact that my children got to spend even part of their youth knowing and loving the two of them- I will always feel proud of that. 
He was there for everything, he has seen and done so much. The world and every part of my being will never be the same. Holidays will have a physical hole in them. December 22 (his birthday) will be sad for an eternity.
I am sure we will all be able to stomach the loss at some part of our lives. I guess that is part of the process but I'm skeptical at best. I can't prepare. I have no idea when the call will come and truthfully I could get that call about anyone in my life but it is Ole that I have a heavy heart for every night, every afternoon and every morning. 


  1. I'm so sorry to hear about this. My Pepa passed away on September 12 of last year. He was the first of my grandparents to pass and the first close family member to pass since the last of my great grandparents did twenty years ago. Pepa was in poor health and certainly wasn't living what one would consider a quality life. Every Christmas for the past decade there was always the feeling that it would be our last Christmas with him. Yet he persevered. He wanted to live to be 100. He came close. When Dad told me that Pepa had passed I couldn't believe it. Years of preparing for that moment in no way prepare you for when it finally happens. The only thing harder than seeing my Pepa laying in a casket was seeing Dad completely break down. I think about Pepa every day. Some days are better than others. The holidays were tough. He wasn't there to critique how salty the ham was or to give his speech about how millions of dollars worth of gifts are accidentally thrown away with the discarded wrapping paper. I content myself by telling myself that it was his time. He's not hurting anymore.

    My thoughts are with you and your family during this time. If you need someone to listen I'm always available.

  2. Reading this made my eyes a bit wet... So sorry to hear about your grandfather. And right, you can't be prepared for that even if you know it will come. When my grandmother (on my mother's side) died in 1989 it was terrible. She was definitely way too young! She was only 68 and seeing her in hospital gettting thinner day by day was the most awful and saddest I've ever seen. She was so much for me, not only my grandmother. She was my "mediator" between my mother and me when we had rough times while I was doing the 'teenager-thing' ;) I still have so many memories of her. I exactly remember the way she cut the bread, the way she set the table for lunch, we watched figure-skating together just to make fun of the men in those funny outfits, when I was small she put two armchairs together to make a bed for me, but I rather crawled into her bed. She had so much stuff I always loved to play with. For instance she always had those amazingly huge collection of special ball pens with a boat inside that went up and down when you turned the pen up and down i.e. (don't know how to explain that ^^). I could go on forever. Although she is dead for such a long time I remember everything so clearly which is good. Still makes me cry writing it down, cause it reminds me of how much I miss her. Always wanted her to be still around when I have kids. And even if my pregnancy wasn't planned exactly that early - it was much too late for my daughter to meet her great grandmother unfortunately, 4 years precisely.
    My grandfather is now 91 years old. He deteriorates quite quick now I have to say. Last year at his 90th birthday he was much fitter. But he is still around, not saying so much anymore, but he's still there.

    So why am I telling you this? Don't know. To express that I am feeling with you and that even if it's so damn sad you will always remember all the things you shared with your grandfather even if it makes you cry. And you can still collect quality time!!!
    I have a picture of my two grandmothers in the kitchen. My grandmother on my father's side died 2006. And it feels good. They are always with me, but I like looking at their pictures. The pictures have to hang in the kitchen for some reason, cause both of my grandmothers were perfect cooks and housewives. I simply loved sitting in the kitchen while my grandmother on my father's side cooked. She loved cooking and I loved watching her and accompany her. She was singing loudly and telling all sort of stuff. It was fantastic. So. The photos have to hang in the kitchen, pretty clear that, right ;)

    All the best from Berlion to you, Eddie, Quattro and Elvis and "Pie" ;)) - feel hugged!

  3. I am incredibly sorry for your heavy heart and your family during these sad days. It is so hard to be human sometimes. Even if many people in your life pass on before you, it never gets any easier. Never.

    My husband died when I was 28 and I had 4 children under 5. My baby was 9 months. It was so very hard. Little did I know at the time, he wasn't to be the first person ripped from me far too early. Loved one after loved one... every year. It never got easier. You never get used to it.

    Some people in our lives make us better people. They help shape us into who we are. I am so thankful for the opportunity to have had those people in my life as long as I did. I am grateful for having known them. My sadness is for my children that did not get the same opprotunity.

    The hurt can be so massive... it seems we will never overcome it. This tremendous void is left only because that love was so big. I think I am lucky to have ever known a love like that.

    My heart breaks remembering the end of days of some of my loved ones. The pain and anguish they endured. There is nothing good about it.

    Maybe there is a name for baby Pie that will honor this wonderful man in your life. Maybe.

    Life is hard. I am sorry.

  4. I'm really sorry to hear about your grandfather, my granddad passed away when I was only 7, but he taught me how to read and to draw and I have fleeting images in my head of sitting on his knee while he read to me.

    When my nan (his wife) passed away 11 years ago, I was an adult so it was a very different story, she was blind and housebound and alone. We were extremely close and my consolation is that I was a very good granddaughter and she often told me how she couldn't do without me.
    I think that I was the best granddaughter that I could be and now although I miss her terribly and still occasionally dream about her, I always wish that I could've done more for her (although I know deep down that I couldn't have).
    It's not easy, and I truly believed that I wouldn't ever get over it, but eventually I did to a reasonable and workable level.
    (Even if it's with a little help from the doctor - as strong minded and secure as I think I am; I needed that help).

    I try to do so much for my family, to the extent that I'm probably too controlling but my anxieties over their health and well-being are always at the forefront of my mind.
    BUT I know that whatever happens in life, and as much as I cannot allow myself to start thinking and worrying about dark times ahead, I will have done my best.

    It's not ideal, but it's how I deal.

    Thinking of you x

    1. I'm so glad we met. You're really sweet.

  5. i know there is nothing to say to make you feel better- i am sorry for you having to go through this but happy for the way you speak of him and the way he has touched all of your lives- times like this when texts or comments feel trite but since its all we can do just want to let you know that your in our thoughts.

  6. I take so much comfort in these comments.
    Thank you.