My precious grandfather, "Papa," is not doing well. Papa is a paradox of the greatest kind. He is strong as steel, completely unflappable. He is a WWII veteran, a Marine, who survived unthinkable challenges. And yet, I've never once in all my 35 years heard him raise his voice. Despite his strength and fierce life experiences, he is as gentle as that little stuffed koala that's been in his basement since I was a girl.
Heart attacks, strokes and surgeries have been no match for his endurance and will. He has always beat the odds and surpassed the doctors' prognoses. And amazingly, he has never complained.
Papa has been losing a bit of his strength with each passing week. Hospice nurses and my very determined grandmother are making sure he is comfortable. And so, that brings us to another paradox. Selfishly, I want to keep him here forever, and yet, I know he is restless and unhappy in his weakened state, feeling miserable to be tethered to oxygen and unable to do the things he loves.
So, for now, we cherish the wonderful days like Tuesday, when he kissed Lucy and watched intently as she stacked blocks at the foot of his chair. And yesterday, when he smiled broadly, even though we thought he was sound asleep, as he heard his favorite record begin playing.
Everyone who knows Papa, loves Papa. We hope, above all, Papa feels that love.
2 comments:
Megan, this is a very beautiful, moving post about your grandfather.
Hey Megan-
I was hoping you had been able to go visit him yesterday after all the chaos on Monday. I'm so glad to see that it worked out. And as Heather said..a beautiful tribute to a wonderful man.
Wishing you and your family strength through this difficult process.
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