Life Off-Label

Last week, my dad called me and told me that my grandfather was admitted to the hospital for acute renal failure. He had cancer for some time and had been in and out of the hospital for the past several months, but this instance was different. My dad informed me that he decided to no longer receive any treatments, go into hospice, and stay with my grandma in their assisted living apartment. He was given a prognosis of about a week, so last weekend my sister and I flew up north from our respective schools to visit him one last time.

We got in Friday morning and stopped by to see him right away. He was laying in bed and napping. We tried talking to him, but he would give half of a response before dozing off again. Oh morphine. It’s okay though. We weren’t expecting to engage in a six hour discussion over various things in life. We just wanted him to know that we were there and that we made the trip up there for him because we love him.

We spent the night going through various pictures of the family over the years. My sister joked that I was grandpa’s favorite because I was always the one sitting on his lap the first few Christmases. We laughed at how much dad in the 70s looks like a hipster now. We “awww”ed over the many cute pictures of grandma and grandpa hugging and smiling with each other at various places in their almost 60 years of marriage. We cringed at the embarrassing photos from our awkward puberty years (and made sure they didn’t happen to make their way into a funeral slideshow). It was through these pictures that we saw how great and full of a life our grandpa lived. He raised four amazing children, and when they grew up and made him proud he got to see six grandchildren. For the better part of 25 years, those children and grandchildren gathered at my grandparents’ house for Christmas every year. My grandparents weren’t ever short on friends, either. After my grandpa retired, my grandparents traveled all over and got to see amazing sights along their way. I’m sure it didn’t come without its share of hard work and obstacles, but it was a life many people would love to have.

My grandma is in a very late stage of Alzheimer’s, and that was initially the reason they moved into the assisted living facility. When I last saw her a year ago she didn’t recognize me any more. She needs a wheelchair to get around, and when she speaks the phrases don’t always make sense and sound kind of random. But after my dad tucked her in her hospital bed next to my grandpa’s and said good night, she mumbled, “We did our best.” My dad smiled and told her that’s right.

We stayed the night in a guest apartment at the assisted living facility. Early in the morning, I heard my dad get up and leave the room. When he got back, he woke my sister and I up and told us we should head over to grandpa’s apartment soon, as the hospice nurse told him grandpa was only going to last a few more hours. We weren’t expecting to hear that while we were up there, but we got ready and headed over there immediately. He was there as we saw him last night, lying there peacefully with his oxygen mask around his face and the stereo softly playing church hymns in the background. My aunt was sitting at his side in her pajamas holding his hand.

At 7am a nurse aid arrived to get my grandma ready and take her to breakfast. We waited in the living room while she got grandma ready and then we helped her get grandma into the wheel chair. When my aunt went to sit with grandpa again, she noticed his hand felt cold. We called the nurse to confirm what we already knew. I don’t know if he intended to wait us to get distracted so we wouldn’t actually see it, but it seemed that he passed away while we were in the other room.

He still looked so peaceful.

When it sank in, we spent a few minutes crying and giving each other hugs. My grandma got back from breakfast, and my uncle broke the news to her. At first she was a little confused because my uncle initially told her “dad” passed away, but when he further explained with the words “your husband”, she jerked back in the wheelchair and sank her head as low as it could go. For someone who mostly stares at you when you try to talk to her, I will never forget that. Somewhere, deep down, I could hear grandma’s heart shattering into a million pieces.

Grandpa died with some of the people who love him most right there with him in his last hours. You can have a successful career, drive a flashy car, or own a thousand Coach purses, but those things mean nothing at the end of the day. It only matters who you’ve touched in your life and how much of an impact that’s had on those people. Grandpa was one of those people who appreciated that, being a positive influence on all of us, and I’m glad to have spent this much of my life knowing him. He and my grandmother, through their endless generosity toward others, taught me the value in being selfless and sacrificing for others. Being a Brewers season ticket holder all those losing years showed me how truly unconditional love can be. Whether it was a game of softball in the backyard or a game of cards in the dining room, he showed me that it’s okay to not take everything so seriously and just have fun. The grandchildren always knew that going with him on a walk to the gas station for milk meant candy for us, and I’m pretty sure he’s the reason my first two words were “ice cream”.  If I listen closely, I can hear him singing church hymns to us from Heaven.

Maybe God will give him a few pointers on how to grill something less than well-well done though. Love you, Grandpa!