Hell on Holiday...
Aug. 21st, 2009 04:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grindmonkehI've been off of work and off of life since Monday dealing with the loss of my Grandad. He was in terrible health for a few weeks...in and out of the hospital with blood transfusions and tests that were conclusive to a prognosis of multiple deep bleeding ulcers that were very painful, wouldn't let him eat, and kept him up all night while he got sick. I've been to their house every other day for the last three weeks helping out with every-day tasks that he was no longer able to perform and to listen to him tell stories that I've already heard dozens of times.
Monday was his sister's birthday, my Great-Aunt Florence, who passed away a few years ago after a terrible bout with Alzheimer's. I stopped by to bring vanilla pudding (the only thing he could keep down) to my Grandad and visit for a minute before we left for St. Louis, and found him sitting in his work-building with his revolver on his lap. I asked him if he was cleaning it. He said he was making sure it was useable, and told me how rotten he had been feeling. He was smiling and in good humor. I told him that I was taking the boys to see Monday Night Raw, professional wrestling, in St. Louis since they were so crazy about it. He laughed and asked if I remembered when he took my brother, cousin, and I to see the pro-wrestlers at a local school gymnasium some twenty-five years ago. And of course I did. I said I had to run, and I'd be by the next day to talk to him about mowing his yard again. Smiling he said, "have a big time!" as I walked back to the house, said bye to Grandma, and then left.
He put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.
I made it ten miles out of town before I called back to their house to make sure they had Bran's cell-phone number. My grandmother had walked out to see what was taking him so long, and found him on the floor of his work-building. She didn't realize what he had done, but hurried back to the house and called 911 thinking he had fallen. I spoke to the responders on the scene right after they arrived, and rushed back and made straight for where he was lying before the police stopped me and calmed me down enough so that I realized that I didn't want to go any closer. It didn't seem real.
I've only gone to bed sober one night since then, and I tossed and turned for two hours before my head relented enough to let me fall asleep. I knew he had the gun, and the thought had crossed my mind that he wasn't just checking it over. Bran was surprised when I had mentioned to her that Grandad had his gun out, and I made the remark, "It's his gun and his life...I'm not going to tie him to a chair." I learned when my mom arrived and I told her what had happened that his father, my great-grandfather, died the same way.
We put him in the ground today and I miss him so terribly. We always shared a birthday party since his was on the 1st of September and mine is on the 7th. He was going to be 84. He knew he couldn't pass the test to get his drivers license renewed this time due to his poor vision.
When I was in the eighth grade we had to write an essay on who our hero was and why. I tore my closet apart yesterday trying to find that essay, but it's long gone as well as so apparently is some of the magic that a grandparent lends to life.
It's going to be a rough one, Grandad.
Monday was his sister's birthday, my Great-Aunt Florence, who passed away a few years ago after a terrible bout with Alzheimer's. I stopped by to bring vanilla pudding (the only thing he could keep down) to my Grandad and visit for a minute before we left for St. Louis, and found him sitting in his work-building with his revolver on his lap. I asked him if he was cleaning it. He said he was making sure it was useable, and told me how rotten he had been feeling. He was smiling and in good humor. I told him that I was taking the boys to see Monday Night Raw, professional wrestling, in St. Louis since they were so crazy about it. He laughed and asked if I remembered when he took my brother, cousin, and I to see the pro-wrestlers at a local school gymnasium some twenty-five years ago. And of course I did. I said I had to run, and I'd be by the next day to talk to him about mowing his yard again. Smiling he said, "have a big time!" as I walked back to the house, said bye to Grandma, and then left.
He put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.
I made it ten miles out of town before I called back to their house to make sure they had Bran's cell-phone number. My grandmother had walked out to see what was taking him so long, and found him on the floor of his work-building. She didn't realize what he had done, but hurried back to the house and called 911 thinking he had fallen. I spoke to the responders on the scene right after they arrived, and rushed back and made straight for where he was lying before the police stopped me and calmed me down enough so that I realized that I didn't want to go any closer. It didn't seem real.
I've only gone to bed sober one night since then, and I tossed and turned for two hours before my head relented enough to let me fall asleep. I knew he had the gun, and the thought had crossed my mind that he wasn't just checking it over. Bran was surprised when I had mentioned to her that Grandad had his gun out, and I made the remark, "It's his gun and his life...I'm not going to tie him to a chair." I learned when my mom arrived and I told her what had happened that his father, my great-grandfather, died the same way.
We put him in the ground today and I miss him so terribly. We always shared a birthday party since his was on the 1st of September and mine is on the 7th. He was going to be 84. He knew he couldn't pass the test to get his drivers license renewed this time due to his poor vision.
When I was in the eighth grade we had to write an essay on who our hero was and why. I tore my closet apart yesterday trying to find that essay, but it's long gone as well as so apparently is some of the magic that a grandparent lends to life.
It's going to be a rough one, Grandad.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 10:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 10:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 10:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 11:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 01:00 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 01:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 03:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 04:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 12:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 05:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 05:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 08:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-23 03:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-25 09:01 pm (UTC)I have been away - I didn't see this post until now. Hope you are hanging in there.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-10 01:16 pm (UTC)