My grandpa Merrill isn't doing well. He was in the hospital for 2 months and was moved home On Sunday... Hospice is coming once a day to check on him and make sure he is ok, but other then that... no help. He is dying.
Death is weird. I've never had someone I'm close to die. Never. Its a strange feeling. I can't imagine being the one lying in a hospital bed looking at the ceiling all day waiting to die. Or the spouse of the one in the hospital bed waiting to die. What would you do? How could you function? I can't imagine.
Watching my grandma and grandpa together the last couple of weeks has broken my heart. My grandma Merrill made a goal that my grandpa would never look at her and see her without a smile on her face. She has done it. She's smiled the whole time. During the dialysis, toe amputation, nutrition tubes. She's smiled. Always smiled.
I've only seen her cry once. Once. She's strong. I want to be like her.
He's skinny. We were watching home movies of our family trip to Disneyland. He was eating a chocolate covered banana... his favorite. He was so chubby and cute. Now... he's skinny. No appetite. My grandma asked him what he wanted her to make him for dinner when he got home and all he could get out was, "Juice." V8 juice. It's the only thing that sounds good.
When I was younger I found out that my grandpa had never tasted pizza. Pizza! Can you believe it? I swore to him that on his death bed I was going to make him try pizza. We both laughed then. It doesn't seem funny now.
I am amazed at what is important to him now. Not money. Not possessions. Not the cars he drove or the horses he raced. Just his family. Memories. And his V8 juice.
I love you grandpa.
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