My grandpa is dying. I literally have to watch him waste away bit by bit every day. He’s gotten to where he is not eating anything aside from maybe a few bites of whatever my grandma cooks and an Ensure. He has gotten this sickly yellow tint to his skin and he can barely communicate with us on a good day. He’s had like eight strokes in the span of two years, and the doctors say that if the strokes don’t kill him, his other options are a heart attack or kidney failure. I live with my grandparents, so my grandma doesn’t necessarily have to deal with everything on her own, and my dad and my aunts have a schedule worked out where one of us is with my grandma all the time.
Despite the proof before my eyes, my mind hasn’t officially grasped the concept that I am losing one of the most important people in my life. My grandpa and I have always been ridiculously close. He’s gotten me through so many hard times and even though I do my best to mentally prepare myself for life without him, I know deep down that when the time comes, I am going to break down. It’s stupid. I feel like such a whiner. I’ve experienced death before. I lost a co-worker earlier this year, and three years ago, one of my other co-workers committed suicide. My grandpa is just the first person whom I’m having to watch die. He’s also the first immediate family member I will lose. This is something huge for me. It’s like I’m having a piece of myself slowly shredded away.
I’m trying really hard to be strong for my grandma. She’s been the main caregiver for my grandpa for the past two years, and I admire her so much. I can’t even begin to imagine how this is affecting her. I do my best to help, but I usually just feel completely worthless. It’s something I know I can’t stop, no matter how hard I try. I think that’s the part that bothers me the most.