“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.”
― Harper Lee, To Kill A Mockingbird
― Harper Lee, To Kill A Mockingbird
It's been almost eight months since my granddaddy passed away. And every day since then has been a struggle. Every week I cry and recently it's been more. I sometimes find myself crying a few times a week or even a day. Eight months is almost a year. That's enough time to grieve for many but of course everyone grieves at their own rate/ pace. I want to explain something. I want to explain why losing my granddaddy has been so hard and will continue to be.
I have or I should now say had lived with my granddaddy for seven years. Even before then I spent what I thought was three whole summers with my grandparents, comes to turn out it was only M-F for six weeks. I saw my mom on weekends but I promise you I don't remember seeing my mom while she was away earning her masters during the summer. For many people they only see their grandparents on special occasions or when the parents and grandparents decide to meet up. That was not the case for me. Not only did I live with my granddaddy for seven years and during some summers but he was my traveling companion. Every summer my mom and I would go on vacations with him. We visited all corners of the U.S. and everything in between. There's a photo of me and him by the biggest trees you've ever seen, sitting on a tractor, snoozing in a recliner, milking a cow, poking poop at the Grand Canyon, eating dinner on the train, celebrating New Year's Eve in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and so many more adventures. You see my granddaddy wasn't just another grandparent he was a parent and a hero. He was always so involved in everything I did. Y'all the man drove 750 miles BY HIMSELF to see me on stage for like fifteen minutes. That's a twelve hour drive in case you didn't know. And before that he and my granny drove 750 miles to see me dance for maybe five minutes in Snow Queen. He came to all the plays I was in; and all my award banquets. He even would remember to bring me flowers when my mom would forget. My granddaddy was my dad. He loved me and supported me from the beginning. He was not a man of many words (neither is my mom - this could explain why I talk a lot) but he was a man of many actions. When I first got my American Girl doll and I wanted her to be a gymnast he made me a balance beam for her. When I wanted a real Christmas tree he helped me get it and put it together. When I needed hay and a tractor for my birthday's he knew where to get the hay and how to drive a tractor. When I needed transportation and my mom wasn't available he would drive me. When I didn't bake the best cookies he reassured me that I did by eating all the cookies in two days. Maybe those are small things to you but to me they were the world and he was my world. You see I didn't just lose a grandparent that I saw every now and then. No I lost my granddaddy. These two words grand and daddy separate are just two words but when you put them together you get my whole world. The key word being grand. He was the grandest guy you could ever meet. He had stories grander than the titanic or the best football play ever played in the world. He was my world. He was everything I wanted to be. Quite at all the right times, smooth talker, good looking, smart with all sorts of knowledge, on point with politics (fun fact: my granddaddy always voted for Kinky Friedman so that Texas would legalize weed), a simple man with the perfect smile. He gave the best hugs and a joke always came afterwards. He saw the best and bright in everyone, even if you had fallen down. But he wasn’t just a grandparent but also a wonderfully amazing dad. He was the guy in my life that I could always rely on. Everything I did was for my mom and granddaddy and everything I continue to do is for them. My granddaddy was not just my granddaddy he was my whole world and continues to be. That's why this has been so hard and continues to be. I lost my whole world and I was in a differnt world when it happened. I didn't just lose a grandparent, I lost my world. XOXO, A gearle who lost her whole world
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Yesterday I made the three hour drive from Georgetown to Garland, Texas. It was not a drive I expected to make, it's not a drive anyone expects to make. I drove to Garland yesterday to be with my mom while she said her goodbyes to her best friend from college. No not just a see you later but an actual goodbye. Today the plug was pulled on her life. Like she won't be on a breathing machine anymore and slowly her organs will all fail and she'll be gone. She'll no longer be with us. This doesn't just break my heart because this is the fourth death for my mom and I in the past year but it's the fact that she still had brain activity.
Maybe my mom's friend had a living will and this would explain our question more. But my mom and I have had the same conversation at least five or six times in the past twenty-four hours. If there is still brain activity how can a family choose to pull the plug? Yesterday when my mom and I saw her friend it looked like she was trying to blink and maybe move when she heard my moms voice; she seemed to even be swalloing. Just as my mom was telling her sorry because she felt like she had been a terrible friend she (my mom's friend) blinked her eyes a few times and moved her leg. Maybe the it's the optimistic person in me; maybe it's the love I have for the people in my life but if someone I knew closely was on life support and the doctors still said he or she had brain activity I'm not sure I could pull the plug. I'm not sure I have the right. Granted if the person had wanted that then fine I'd led it be but still. My mom and I have had this conversation. Knock on wood *knock knock* if something were to ever happen to me I have told my mom to keep me on life support. I have the hope and optimism that I would come back. How can someone make the decision to take a life? A life that has brain activity? Someone who can't speak for themselves. Do we really have the say on that? How do doctors really know what is and isn't? How and why do we put so much faith in machines? Maybe it's because of everything I saw last summer with my granddaddy but I have personally lost faith in the medical field. My moms friend, her mother said that she could hear us. My mom's best friend from college could hear my mom talking to her. That has to say something. It has to mean something. How do we know that she isn't fighting on the inside trying to communicate to us? It's just her body isn't wanting to breathe. When do you pull the plug? Literally. When do you/ when is it okay to pull the plug on someone else's life? Who has the say in that? The nurse/ doctor/ resident that pulls the plug on someone, why do they get to take someone elses life? When I ask my mom what she would want to do she replies, "I don't want to rack up a lot of debt and be a burden to you but at the same time I don't know if I trust the doctors enough to know that I'm never going to wake up again. How do they know that whatever is keeping me on life support won't heal itself. The human body is a miraculous healer." Nothing can be done now. What's done is done. I can only hope and pray that my mom and her best friend are reunited in Heaven many decades from now. But I do urge you to have these types of conversations with your family. One is never too young or old to have this conversation. My mom and I have thourghly discussed this. I do leave you with this question(s) though: when do you, a person that is not the other person who is fighting for their life, decide to pull the plug on a life? Is it really your right? Is it really your choice? Once someone is gone they're never coming back. - A gearle who is wondering why the plug was pulled and if it was the right thing to do A year ago I wrote the blog The Hardest Thing. At the time the hardest thing I had to do was watch my granddaddy suffer doing the tiniest things. I had to watch him get out of breath walking from his chair to the kitchen. I heard him tell me sorry because he didn't know much longer he had and that it was so hard to live some days. He would say he felt useless. Hearing those words and seeing his actions were more painful for me than I can put into words. Accept I wish I could feel that pain then, than the pain I feel now - the pain that I feel everyday. The hardest thing I do everyday is living without my granddaddy. I can't walk across campus talking to him, I can't tell him about what idiotic Texas legislation is being discussed, I can't give him a hug, I can't tell him about London. The hardest thing to do is move on. My granddaddy was my hero and he was my dad. Recently every night I sleep with this bear that I made in honor of him and I cry myself to sleep at night because I just want to talk to him and give him a hug. I just want the one guy in the world who truly loved me and showed me the kindness and honesty that still hopefully exsists in this messed up world. Since August 29, 2016, life has been anywhere from tolerable to unbearable. Nothing has been as fun or happy. I struggle to find the motivation to do school work, show up to organization meetings, and communicate with my friends. The only joy in my life is Sigma Phi Lambda - I live for all those beautiful ladies. Losing my granddaddy is the hardest and the worse thing to ever happen to me. I can't even continue this post, this post is not even worthy. It does my granddaddy no justice. I'm sorry if I have been MIA or out of it lately friends, it's just really hard. I can't put into words how I feel. I can only stupidly cry about it. I'm sorry.
- a gearle who's dealing with the hardest thing she's ever dealt with |
Abby & AndreaA college student trying to figure out the world with her mom by herside. Life through my lens (Abby). We all have different stories and these are only some of mine. Some funny, some adventurous, some hard. Sit back and relax. Enjoy. Archives
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