My grandfather was transferred to a hospice center yesterday evening. It’s beautiful. He has his own room, which is more of a suite. There’s the living area, with his bedroom area off to the side, a large bathroom, and a separate little nook that contains a small dining table and chairs, as well as a padded bench that goes along one entire wall. There are also double doors that open out onto a porch, and on the porch there are lawn chairs, and the porch itself has a roof, so it’s nice and shady. There are large communal areas, including a kitchen and dining room that is stocked with every type of appliance imaginable. I plan on using it tonight, as my grandfather requested some of my grandmother’s pancakes. She isn’t here to cook them, obviously, but I have her recipe, so I can make them.
This is so damn hard. Losing my grandfather… I don’t even know how to express it. It’s not like he’s “just” my grandfather, and there are a handful or even a dozen other family members still around. It’s not like Dan’s family, with his four siblings, his mom, and multiple aunts and uncles. Growing up, my family consisted of me, my mom (she and my dad divorced when I was six, and he wasn’t really in the picture after that, except for bi-weekly visitations and the occasional phone call), my grandmother, my grandfather and my downs-syndrome uncle. He passed away when I was 12. There was also my great-uncle (my grandfather’s brother) who we saw a few times a year, but that was that.
We were always with my grandparents. My mom and I had dinner with them at least twice a week, and we went out with them at least once a week. My mom and my grandmother talked every single day. I spent at least one weekend a month with my grandparents, and during the summer I’d stay for weeks at a time (we also went out together just about every night!). When we moved from Philadelphia, my grandparents would drive up and stay with us for 2-5 days at a time at least once a month. Then they moved about five minutes away from us, so having dinner and seeing each other was pretty much a daily thing.
Losing my grandmother in 2004 was devastating. She was the glue that held our family together. She dictated, we obeyed. But she was so loving and so good to us. God I miss her so much… I don’t think I will ever be able to think about her or talk about her without crying. She really was like a second mother to me.
My grandfather was so empty after she died. I still remember that Christmas Eve, a few hours after we had the viewing and she was sent off to be cremated. Dan and I came over to make an attempt at having a holiday dinner with my mom and grandfather, but my grandfather just sat in the living room, with no lights on, staring off into space. It was horrible. The Christmas after wasn’t much better. I think Christmas 2006 was a little better, if only because we were in a new house for the holidays, and Dan and I went all out to try and foster some Christmas spirit and have a great holiday dinner.
And now my grandfather is choosing to die. He’s tired of dialysis, tired of being lonely and at the nursing home. I’m so torn. I respect his wishes, and if he wants to die I’m okay with that, I can handle that. But if there’s more my mom and I could have done, could still do, in order to combat some of his loneliness? I want to know. I NEED to know. I don’t want him to choose death over life because we don’t call enough or take him out enough. The kind of guilt I have been feeling over the past 24 hours, ever since my grandfather told my mom that he wanted to die because he was lonely, has been awful. Awful. It’s a choking kind of guilt, and I swear it takes my breath away. I just want to go back and redo everything. Call more. See him more. Pressure my mom to call more, to see him more. She talked to him a few times a week, and I talked to him once or twice a week, and we did our best to coordinate our schedules with his dialysis and rules set by his legal guardians to visit with him and/or take him out every 3-4 weeks, but it wasn’t enough. It obviously wasn’t enough. But we can do more… if that’s why he wants to die, more so than because he’s tired of the dialysis, then we can fix that. You know?
Ugh. This is so hard. So damn hard. And it’s so exhausting. I spent Wednesday night at the hospital, after calling Dan and asking him to drive my brother back to his school. He came over right away, and I went along for the ride. I just didn’t want to drive. I was in no shape to. Anyway, I got back to the hospital around 11pm Wednesday night, and one of the nurses brought me a cot. I crashed around 2:30am, after my grandfather settled down (he kept waking up and wanting to take his gown off/put his gown on and get out of bed), but between my grandfather waking up and the nurses coming in and out I was back up before 8am.
Yesterday afternoon, after the three of us had breakfast and lunch (Jason brought me Taco Bell, since the “guest” meals are limited to one person — thank you Jason!), and my grandfather was sleeping again, I left to take care of a few errands, stopped by my mom’s house to check on the cat and the dog and to get her some clothes and toiletries, and then came home. I missed Dan and Alyssa and Ryan so much… but I only stayed long enough to have dinner and take a shower. Then I left again, only this time I went to the hospice center.
I held it together so well yesterday, even when a woman from the hospice center had come into my grandfather’s room to talk with my mom and I. Even when my mom started crying. But when I played a voicemail she left me with directions to the hospice center and his room number, I lost it. I had to pull over because I couldn’t see enough to be able to drive safely.
As I said, the hospice center really is beautiful. Soothing colors, music, environment, staff members. They even allow pets, so after I have dinner here, I’m going to take Blueboy over to the hospice center. He was my grandmother’s cat, and even though I’ve had him for almost five years now, my grandfather is still really attached to him. I know he’ll enjoy having him, and while Blueboy probably won’t enjoy the car ride, I know he’ll like seeing my grandfather.
So tonight: dinner here, then packing up my laptop, camera, ingredients for the pancakes and Blueboy, and going over to the hospice center. I’ll stay until midnight or so, maybe a bit later, but then I need to come back home. I’d love to stay overnight, but Dan works tomorrow morning, so I have to be home for the kids.
Tomorrow: I’m going to leave here around 2:30pm and go pick up my thirteen year old brother. Then I’m going to drive back and drop off Ryan with Dan, who will be at work. He’s done at 5, so I’m going to time my arrival to be exactly at 5, so he can take Ryan and I can go with Alyssa (my grandfather has asked about her a few times) and my brother over to the hospice center.
I don’t know what else to say… I don’t expect you guys to really read through this and comment. You don’t have to. I just need to write and get this out of my head. These next few days are going to be awful. Sleep was such oblivion last night… I crashed for 10.5 hours, and I probably could have slept some more.
Also, thank you for the texts, emails, DMs and comments regarding my grandfather. Thank you so much for your prayers and offerings of support. I can’t respond right now, because I feel like if I go any deeper into this I’m going to totally fall apart, but I want you all to know how much your words mean to me, to my family. What’s left of it. There really is nobody left… just my mom and I, and my brothers. And my mom has been falling apart emotionally for several years, and my brothers are special-needs and have their own emotional issues, so we’re definitely not a “normal” family with the “normal” dynamics. They rely on me and count on me. It’s so exhausting at times. But they’re still my family, and I’m going to cling to them, because the four of us only have each other now.
I know exactly what you are going through. My mom had lung cancer and it spread to her stomach and her back, And after that there was no hope so we placed her in a hospice which like you said is a beautiful place, where my mom was it looked like a huge mansion and the staff were so nice and they took good care of her. It’s hard when you lose a loved one, My heart goes out to you and your family. Stay strong, even though it’s hard.
You and your family are in my prayers, remember if you need anyone to talk to, email me anytime. We might not know each other but that don’t mean I can’t or won’t listen to you. I am here for you and I’ll be praying for you.
So sorry about what you are going through but I wanted to comment on something else and didn’t know where to do it. I was looking through your pictures and felt the need to tell you that you should be so proud of yourself. I have been reading your blog since Alyssa was born and I must say, you are a great wife and wonderful mother to your kids, and at such a young age. Alot of young mothers (and alot of older ones too) can really learn alot from you. Good for you. Your mother should be really proud of you. I wish you and your family all the best, always.
I am so sorry Jenn. I know this is hard. Stay strong.
I can only imagine how you feel. I know that I feel the same way about my grandmother and it seems like I am slowly pushing her away so that when her time comes, I won’t be so sad about it. But I know that’s not going to be the right path for me so reading your story makes me want to spend as much time with her as I can. Death is never easy for loved ones but perhaps having comfort in knowing that he will be with your grandmother soon (if you believe in that sort of thing) will make the road ahead slightly easy to cross. But don’t be afraid to cry. Crying shows the compassion within us all and from the sounds of it your grandfather deserves that compassion.
Take Care
i never know how to give words of comfort, but I am really sorry Jenn. And don’t, don’t blame yourself for your grandfather’s loneliness. He lost the love of his life, I doubt there is more you could ever have done to help combat it. Even if he lived with you, was immersed in the bustle of your life and surrounded by your family, never alone, he’d still be lonely.
I wish I could mail you some of my strength to borrow for a few days.
I can’t even imagine how hard this is on you.
Don’t worry about responding; you deserve to focus on you. I hope things will pick up for your family soon; we’re all thinking of you.
I went through some of what you are going through with my mom. She had lung cancer and by the time we got her to the hospital – it was too late. She was suppose to go to the hospice but there wasn’t enough time.. she died.
I am really sorry for all that you are going through Jenn. Know that your visitors love you and are behind you during this rough period in your life. And are there for support. Thank you for taking time to let us know what you are going through.
You and your family will always be in my prayers.
I can’t even imagine how hard this must be for you. The hospice sounds lovely and I’m glad that he will be able to have a comfortable place for his last days, instead of being in a hospital. I’m sending my thoughts to you and your family <3
I am glad the hospice center is nice. It’s good to know that he will be comfortable, at least. Jenn, you are not at fault here. From how you speak, you love your grandfather very much and you would never do anything to hurt him. I’m sure that your grandfather knows this. He is probably in a lot of pain, and the one person who he has spent the most time with in his life, his wife, has already gone. I’m pretty sure that is the reason he feels lonely. Just be there for him for the rest of his time here, which I’m sure you will, and I know he will appreciate it.
Reading about your memories with your grandparents really made me think about how little I get to visit my relatives. They’re all in Memphis so I visited them once a year, if I was lucky, throughout my childhood. I wish I got to have the kind of memories with them that you have. Luckily my sister and brother went to school in Memphis so they got to know my mom’s parents and my dad’s mom. I only have my Mom’s mom left and all my other grandparents are gone now.
It must be so much harder to lose someone so very close to you. When my grandparents died I was mostly sad for all of the things I never got to hear about their lives or learn from them. I really missed out. So, even though you don’t have tons of relatives, you’ll always have amazing memories.
I’m glad that the support here on the internet has helped you. It also sounds like your grandfather seeing Blueboy will be great for him. I hope you don’t spend too much time playing the “what if” game. You ARE holding a family together after what happened to your brothers. Don’t feel riddled with guilt that you didn’t get to visit him more. You’re only one person and you have been visiting your brothers, working, and maintaining your own family. I’m sure he mostly misses your grandmother, and I’m sure he appreciates that you’re there now. He knows how much you care.
*hugs*
My grandmother died in 1999. I was 12 years old. My parents divorced when I was around 8 or so..and, my mother and I were poor due to my father, so we moved in with my grandmother. She took care of me, picked me up from my babysitters house everyday…even before we moved in with her, she was such a huge part of my life, my mothers life, my cousins (http://kelleyroo.com, http://triggerwicked.com) lives. Their parents (my cousins) passed away when Kelley and I were 3, and Eric (her brother) was 8. My grandmother was awarded a little less than joint custody between her, and their mothers mother (their other grandmother). Which means, they got to spend every other weekend at my grandmothers house.
My grandfather died when I was 2. I dont remember a whole lot but, my mom says that the only reason my granny kept living was because of us. My grandmothers death was slow, long, and agonizing. It has been..11 years and I dont think I have accepted it yet.
I miss my granny. And, I constantly think about what I could have done to help her feel less lonely. She was only 62! But, I couldnt have done anything…just like you couldnt have done anything Jenn…
My grandmother gave up. She was tired..and she was ready to go. It sounds like your grandfather is going through the same thing. Know that there is nothing you can do….it wont make it any more easy, or any less heartbreaking, but, death, sometimes, can be a decision. And, in this case, just like my grannies, it sounds like he is deciding to die (and he has said he is deciding to die as well..)
The most you can do is provide him with the comfort he deserves while he is transitioning from this life, to the next. Which it sounds like you are doing an amazing job of.
Hang in there. Everything is ok.