Loss is one of the hardest things about life. To go from seeing someone every day to never hearing them speak another word is truly terrifying. My loss was unexpected. My mom had talked to my grandfather on the phone only minutes before he stopped breathing. Driving over to the hospital, I had nothing but hope. This couldn't happen to me; not my family.
It wasn't until I was sitting in the waiting room with my mom, waiting for the ambulance, that it hit me. The possibility of losing someone I cared so deeply for overcame me. I had never felt something so painful. For days we sat in the hospital, day in and day out; we basically lived there. My grandfather lie in the bed, hooked up to so many tubes that it was hard to tell who he was anymore. The hope we were left with was the scariest part of all. A little twitch here and there was the difference between life and death.
In the middle of all of this, life had to go on. I still had to go to my college orientation -- something I was already worried about. Anything could've happened to him while I was gone. My overnight stay was cut short as I received a text from my dad saying we were leaving -- they were going to pull the plug on my grandpa. That day was filled with so much love and so much sorrow. I've never been so proud to call my family mine. I sat in the waiting room with my little brother and we waited for them to tell us that our grandpa had passed away. The rest of our family, the adults, waited in the room with my grandpa. My mother, being the one-of-a-kind woman that she is, thought my grandpa had taken his final breath and decided to announce, on her own terms, that he had passed.
Naturally, it was a little surprising that he was still breathing when my brother and I walked into his hospital room. The comic relief of the situation lasted only a little while, as we watched the person we loved struggle to keep himself alive. His wheezing breaths and purple skin frightened me a little; he looked so different. However, at the same time, it was peaceful. He passed surrounded by the people who loved him most.
Accepting his departure was the hardest thing, mentally, that I've ever gone through. I was never going to hear his laugh again or see him smile. I'm so grateful for everything in my life that had to do with him. I'll continue to listen to his old voicemail messages and the video of him cheering me on as I walked down the aisle at graduation. No matter how sad they make me, there's something about his voice that puts me at peace. I hope that one day I can grow a family that loves me as much as we loved my grandpa. Rest easy, Poppy, the world misses your smile.
