kitty pi

7:00 pm Sunday

On Sunday night at 7:00 p.m., my grandfather died while I held his hand.

Rewind 11 days, on a Wednesday morning at home with my grandmother, my grandpa started acting kind of funny. I wasn't there, but my uncle and grandmother let me know that he was in the ICU of a hospital near his house in Las Vegas. We weren't sure, but it sounded pretty serious. He had intracranial bleeding due to ruptured blood vessels. Grandpa Don was 86 years old and had already had a few health problems in the past six months. While he was in the trauma ward of the hospital, the bleeding in his brain suddenly got worse and at that time my Grandpa Don pretty much lost consciousness or awareness. They put him on a ventilator and a feeding tube.

Over the next few days, Don would respond by wiggling his fingers or toes. My grandmother and Don had advance directives and had discussed what to do many, many times. She felt it was hard to pull the plug when he could lie there and look at her but once the doctor said he was paralyzed on his left side, would never recover and would never be able to paint or draw again, she was able to have the life support removed.

Grandpa Don and my Grandma Betty were a very hip, bohemian couple. I always admired their ability to just pack up and move anywhere they felt like going and living life on their terms. My grandma was a minister and my grandpa was an artist. They had moved to Mexico and lived in a village near Guadalajara for many years. They landed in Las Vegas 12 years ago or so and just ended up staying. They didn't have much money or possessions, but they loved what they did and how they did it and always had just what they needed.

On Monday last week, they moved him to a facility in Summerlin and signed him on to Hospice services. Over the week, he became less and less responsive. Thursday he would still wiggle his toes if you tickled his feet. By Friday that had stopped.

Throughout the course of the week, most of the family flew in or drove to Las Vegas to support Grandma. By the weekend, my uncle, my dad, my two cousins and one of their spouses were there. I got there Friday afternoon. I was shocked that someone had shaved Don's beard off.

Don was born in 1918 (I think) in Toronto. He was in the Canadian Army and after getting out, he took a trip to New York. He lived in Manhattan for a few years. I'm not sure what he did after that. When he turned 41, he said, his hair turned white overnight . No one in our family had ever seen him without white hair and a full white beard and moustache. He was striking, all the more so next to my olive-skinned, dark-haired grandmother. I never knew my real grandfather so when Don married my Grandma, he became my de facto grandfather. I loved his art, his wicked sense of humor and his intellect. He was stubborn and codgery and totally into mischief. My grandmother also has those same traits.

Over the years, we had seen very little of each other. Earlier this year, we visited and have talked quite a bit since then. Throughout my life, every visit was better than the last and we were looking forward to perhaps seeing him again very soon.

Sunday, August 14, around five o'clock in the afternoon we noticed a change in Don's condition. Once we were able get his pain and discomfort under control the end came very quickly. His organs started to shut down and it was obvious that the end was finally near. I sat on the side of his bed and held his hand. My uncle and dad were in the room and my grandma was seated in a chair next to the bed. My cousins had left earlier in the day to go back home but they had been there all week and Don knew they were there.

The final hour was very serene and calm despite the thunderstorms that had been brewing and raging all day outside. When my grandfather took his final breaths, I was holding his hand and my grandmothers hand. She whispered "it's okay" and he left.

We had tears and a lot of laughter through the last week. We shared stories and dreams and wishes. I saw a person cease to exist on earth. I saw a woman say goodbye to her partner of 35 years. I got a lot closer to my dad and my uncle and cousins. I saw people who lived life on their own terms approach the end of their life with no apparent regrets. I saw myself able to comfort people in a time of need. I was proud of what I witnessed and what I was a part of. I wouldn't trade the last four days for anything.

posted by Anita at 5:33 PM