This time last year I was obliviously enjoying an afternoon at the pool with Alyssa. Meanwhile my grandfather was being admitted to the hospital after deciding that he was ready to die. It took ten long, agonizing days for his body to finally give out and give in to his wishes. How ironic that despite a six way bypass in 2005, he had an incredibly strong heart that just wouldn’t stop beating. Watching him die was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, next to watching my grandmother die. God was kind to us and to her — she passed away within three days of being admitted to the hospital (she too went in on her own volition to die, as she didn’t want my grandfather to be alone with her).
June 11th, 2010 will mark a year since his passing. As I write this Alyssa and Ryan are playing in their rooms, which is good because I’m sitting here crying, and I haven’t even written what I want to say, what I’ve kept bottled up inside of me for nearly a year. Guilt. It’s true that my grandfather was miserable on dialysis and was going through renal failure, and had some subsequent mental issues due to the build-up of toxins in his body that the dialysis couldn’t quite remove, but those things aside, he was healthy. Old, frail, and tired, but healthy. He was unhappy. Very unhappy. He was lonely and heartbroken without my grandmother, and during the last year of his life he didn’t get the opportunity to go out or be with us (us being my mother and I, and of course the boys, Dan, and Alyssa and Ryan) as much as he wanted to.
And that’s where the guilt comes in. I feel incredibly guilty for not being there for him more often. So guilty, in fact, that I rarely think about his death and I try very, very hard not to think about him, because when I do I get choked up and overwhelmed with grief, regret, and guilt. I feel like I could have done more. Yet logically I know that I did all I could. During the last year of his life I was juggling full-time work with baby shower tableware and other writing subjects, Alyssa, Ryan and his needs, Alyssa being in preschool, and the hassle of having only one vehicle because my mother had mine pretty much 24/7 from August ’08 – July ’09. And with Dan working sporadic 45-55 hour weeks, there were a lot of times when I wasn’t just obligated to be at home because of work or the kids, I was stuck at home because I didn’t have any transportation.
I can’t tell you the number of times my grandfather would call me, wanting to go out, and I couldn’t take him out. I couldn’t take him out because of the kids, because of work, because of things I had to do, but more often than not, I couldn’t take him out because I didn’t have a way to get to him. You see, my mother not only had my car nearly 24/7 during those ten months, but she also rarely answered her damn phone when he or I would call. I can’t tell you the number of times my grandfather would call me to see if my mom was here, and then the subsequent bitch fest we’d have about her. For a woman who had nothing to do all day and all day to do it in, she sure was hard to get a hold of.
But I still feel guilty. I still feel sick over it. Even when he was dying I felt guilty. I know my mom did too, and I know that part of the reason I feel so guilty and full of regret is because she tried to deflect her guilt onto me. And it worked. And to a certain extent, I’m okay with that. She was losing her father, her only living relative besides me and my brothers, and she had no one to really lean on besides me, whereas I had and still have Dan, his family, and to a large extent, you — the people who visit my blog, read my entries, comment, and keep up with me through the weeks, months, years. So I let her. I refused to argue there in the hospital room, in the hospice center, or even at home. I just wanted to concentrate on the good, cherish the memories, savor those last days with him, and put aside the guilt and regret and remorse for later.
Only later has some, and I still can’t deal with it. I fall apart over it, secretly, privately, but I never truly deal with it. And to be honest, I can’t really tell you how much of what I feel is guilt and how much is just “generic” grief and longing, because I don’t know myself.
I’m sorry to be so mopey. But every time I hear of aircraft parts supplies, or think about anything airplane/Air Force related, I think of him. 
I also wish he could see me now. He’d be so proud of me for losing weight, for barely qualifying for plus size swimsuits, for looking so much better and feeling so much better, for being healthier. I know he would be proud.
You know I’ve had my fair share of grief. And you know, you can’t hold onto it, or the guilt. You have to let it go, realize that even if you feel like you failed somehow, you did everything you could. He still loved you, and you got to spend alot of time with him, and in the end that is what really matters.
Guilt is the hardest emotion to deal with because it really does consume you. You shouldn’t feel guilty for what you weren’t able to control– despite the fact that I know that’s easier said and done, I firmly believe that you grandfather does not blame you and that ultimately wherever he is, he’s much happier then he was during those last 10 months.
I had the same thing happening to my grandfather from my mom’s side. Due to the personal family issues we did not speak with him for a while and then after couple of years he called and we talked for a bit but couple days later he passed away from getting heart attack after already having two heart surgeries in the past.
I never realized how much you can miss the person until he was gone. I was upset at myself for following what family has told me and just went with the flow instead of talking with him and keeping the relationship in good standings.
It’s hard to think about it but just realize. Your grandpa is up in the sky looking after you knowing that you never forgot him.
During the lowest part of our marriage last year I started to develop feelings for a friend of ours who had already had feelings for me for quite awhile. We would talk back and forth via text messaging and on World of Warcraft when I Was on. Nothing mattered to my husband when he was playing WoW or any other game and it was really frustrating. I felt so neglected and I felt like the kids were too. I felt the same way you do. That I had to initiate everything and I hated it. I felt like gaming came first and we came second. Well after about a month my husband FINALLY decided to check my phone and found text messages between the two of us and confronted me. Something I wish he’d done weeks earlier. I never wanted to leave him and told our friend that many times. That I loved him and would never leave him I just liked knowing someone thought I was attractive and cared enough to talk to me like a human being and ask how the kids were. But I didn’t know how to stop talking to him. On one hand I felt justified. I didn’t cheat on him, I never sent or received nude photos, we never did anything that could be considered cheating. But I did care for him. Had I been single I would have jumped at the chance to be with him. But I wasn’t. I just wanted my husband to pay attention to me and the kids and care about us. Well it was a huge wake up call. Considering the last text message I sent said just that. That sometimes I wished I were single because I’d jump at the chance to be with him and wished my husband were more like him.
That was when Kai finally realized that he was being selfish and he was pushing me away and I’d had enough. He literally thought he was going to lose me because of what he had done. He thought he was going to lose the kids and he couldn’t deal with it. I felt bad for what I had done, I even felt like I cheated on him. But he felt worse. Since then it’s been something that has steadily improved. He actually helps me now. He’ll initiate sex, he’ll talk to me. If he’s gaming and I need his help he’ll stop and help me. He pays more attention to the kids and doesn’t ignore them while he’s gaming. He even helps sascha out on WoW. I don’t know what I would have done he he never found out and never changed. I may very well have left him. I’m glad I’ll never know. But I know it took him believing he was going to lose us to shape up.
Hi Jen, I’ve been a lurker for a long time now but felt that I had to comment to this entry. I was in a similar situation to you a few years ago and found the following article very helpful: http://thinksimplenow.com/happiness/how-to-free-yourself-from-guilt/
Good luck, I wish you well.
Jenn,
Guilt is a perfectly normal part of the grieving process. If you weren’t feeling guilty over this, you’d be feeling guilty over something else. It’s only been a year since you lost your grandfather. There’s no time table as to how fast you have to deal with things. A year is such a short, short time and you could well still be in denial over this and the realization comes in short, fast bursts that leave you devastated.
You may not know this, but I lost my mother to alcoholic cirrhosis in 2005, and I watched her die in a hospital for three months, took care of her alone at home for half a month somewhere in between. I left my steady job to be with her, and I still feel guilt over not being there for her *enough*, not when she was healthy nor when she was ill. There is no way to evade the feeling of guilt — you have to… I know it sounds harsh, but you have to embrace it for it to lessen. It’ll never go away, but it becomes easier to deal with once you accept it. It’ll take time. In two months, it’ll be five years since my mom died and I still feel the guilt and pain from that. I still break down now and then, overwhelmed by it all. It’s normal, Jenn. Perfectly normal.
It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t be with your grandfather when he was lonely. I’m 100% sure he understood that, and I’m also sure he knew you cared and he knew you wanted to be there even when you couldn’t. And most importantly, you were THERE when he was dying. You were THERE when he died. He wasn’t alone, and although I don’t really believe in the concept of Heaven, I’m sure his spirit is with you always and he loves you and your mother and your children and watches over you with your grandmother.
Most importantly, Jenn. Please remember that it’s okay to feel sad, and it’s okay to break down. Don’t bottle it up. If you feel like crying, cry. If you feel like screaming, scream. You don’t need to be strong all the time. You’re carrying so much on your shoulders every day. Allow someone else to carry you for a change, and allow yourself to be “weak” and break down. It’ll help. Trust me.
*hugs* Take care.