My Grandfather’s Passing

Top:  Baby, The Stars Shine Bright
Skirt:  Non-brand
Socks:  Miho Matsuda
Shoes:  Non-brand
On this particular day, I was wasting time by curling my hair, when I received a rather distressed phone call from my grandmother that my grandfather was very close to death, and it was time for me to come and say my last goodbyes.  I didn’t want to wear anything too over the top, so I opted for this slightly more casual skirt, before driving out to my grandfather’s hospice. 
When I arrived, he seemed in good spirits, but had a horrible rattle in his chest from fluid collecting in his lungs.  He had pneumonia.  He couldn’t talk, but he was awake and could still read, so we played a game of notes, where I instructed him to nod up and down for yes, and side to side for no.  Before I asked him a bunch of serious questions, I just wrote him a bunch of notes telling him how much I love him.  Then I wrote him a bunch of questions asking if he was in pain, and he said yes.  I asked him if he wanted morphine, and he said yes.  When I told the nurse he wanted morphine, the nurse said that the hospice was all out, and that we’d need to take him to the hospital.  My grandmother refused, she wanted him to die a natural death, but more importantly I think she didn’t want to have to pay the hospital and ambulance fees.  When I asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital to get morphine for his death, he said yes.  Around that time, my Aunt arrived from Seattle, where she convinced my grandmother that if he asked for morphine, he damn well deserves his final wish to die with it.  Finally, my grandmother agreed to the hospitalization, and the ambulance came and took him away.  By the time that I met him again at the hospital, he was full of morphine, no longer aware of his surroundings, and I gave him one final kiss on the cheek before I said my goodbyes.  I wasn’t allowed in the room when he passed, so I drove home.  By the time I arrived at my house, he was already gone. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.