….Gone….

  

   So this is actually the first time I can even think about writing this entry. I just hope I can get through the whole thing.

   On Thursday, January 13th at 2:50pm my Poppy passed away. His wish was to die at home, but because of certain complications, that wasn’t possible. But everyone from home that could possibly surround him, did so. We brought home to him.

  I went to visit him when he was at home as much as I could. I tried to get there everyday, but if I couldnt, then I made sure I was there every second day. I’d spend as much time in that room with him as I could. It really hurt to see him lying in the bed as he was. All my life, I remember him as being such an independant man. Always wanting to do things for other people. He didnt want to be laid up in bed, needing nurses to come in and bathe him and take care of him. He didnt want that at all.

  Two days before he passed, I was there visiting in the evening. It was just the two of us in the room and he said he wasnt feeling well, so I propped his bed up for him in case he needed to get sick. Shortly after, he did. So I took care of him. Then changed his shirt for him. The sight of him with no shirt on was horrible. He was sooo skinny. He reminded me of one of the hungry kids that you see on the television commercials. It was terribly hard for me, but I had to stay strong for him.

  When he got sick, something came up but we werent sure what it was. So, my aunt phoned the doctor to see if we should take Poppy to the hospital. He said yes, to call the ambulance to take him up. The paramedics came. They were poking at him with iv’s and needles, so I made sure to stand where he could see me so he felt a little better about what was going on. We stared at each other. They took his blood pressure…. not good. 80 over 60. Really low. We later found out that it was blood that came up from an ulcer that busted. That was why his pressure was so low too. So the paramedics covered him up and took him to the hospital.

  I couldnt get to see him the next day because the weather was horrible. My parents went up thou, and I’m glad because my father couldnt bring himself to go in the room to see him while he was at home.

  The day of the 13th at approximately 1:30pm, the phone rang. Before I answered it, my heart sank. I knew something was wrong. My sister was crying on the other end, saying that our grandmother had just called to say that the hospital phoned her to say they didnt think Poppy was going to make it much longer. I got to the hospital as fast as I could. It seemed like it took forever to get there, and I prayed the whole way that he would hold on long enough for me to get to see him again.

  Thankfully, he did. When I got there, I learned that they had just drained his lungs because they were filling with fluid. I went in to see him. He looked even worse than he ever did. His breathing was terrible. He had what people call the death rattle. His breaths were getting shallower and shallower. I knew it was coming close. You could see it in his eyes. So, I gave him a kiss on the forehead and whispered to him that I loved him. I’m sorry that I didnt tell him more often.

  I looked at the clock at 2:45pm and I knew it wouldnt be much longer. Unfortunately, I was right. He left us by 2:50pm. I can still see him taking his last breaths when I close my eyes. I dont like it one bit, but I’m glad that I was there.

  I know that he’s not suffering anymore. And I know that he led a good life. He was 82years old. And I know that he touched a lot of peoples lives. And I know that I should be thankful that I even got to meet him, for some people dont get the chance to meet their grandparents. And I am thankful. But,  I would give ANYTHING in this entire world just to have one more day with him. A day to spend with me, and me alone.  A day to ask him questions that I never asked. To learn things I didnt know. To maybe teach him some things that he never knew about me. And I know thats selfish of me to think like that. I know theres a lot more people who would give the world for the same thing. But I dont care. I want my Poppy.

  I cry for him at night. Before I fall asleep. When I’m lying in bed alone in the morning. When I’m in the shower. When no one is looking. When I hear a sad song on the radio. I cry on the inside when I see an old man somewhere. If I’m going through the day and I catch myself laughing, or not thinking about him, I feel guilty. I know he wouldnt want that. He wouldnt want that at all. But I do. I miss him so much. I miss him….

 I found this poem on the diary of 2sad2notice. I hope she doesnt mind that I borrowed it.

 

God looked around His garden,

and He found an empty place.

He then looked down upon the earth,

and saw your tired face.

 

God saw you getting tired,

and a cure was not to be,

so He put His arms around you,

and whispered, “Come to Me.”

 

With tearful eyes we watched you suffer,

and saw you fade away,

although we loved you dearly,

we could not make you stay.

 

In life we loved you dearly,

In death we love you still

In our hearts you hold a special place,

No one can ever fill.

 

It broke our hearts to lose  you.

But – you didn’t go alone.

For most of us went with you-

That day when God took you Home…

  

 

I Love You Poppy.  I Miss You.

 

 

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