I called my mom last night after I got off work to get some information from her on something I was confused about. She explained and gave me some suggestions. She was cooking dinner and said she would call back later. She called back a couple hours later and said she had some heavy stuff to tell me.
Since I haven't been blogging or doing much other than working, I haven't told anyone that my grandfather was just in the hospital again for 5 days. They sent him home on Tuesday. He's been sick and battling cancer, heart problems and other shit for years and years and years. In January he was in the hospital for a while. They said he was going to die then. Then oddly, he just seemed to bounce back and start doing better. He's had several hospital visits since then. And he's been doing more and more losing against the things he's battling.
Last night, my mom told me he was having worse issues. His body is starting to shut down on him basically. Slowly. I don't want to post the details about it all because I don't think I'll be able to write this if I do because it's crushing to me. I'm close with my grandparents. I grew up seeing them on a very regular basis. I always thought kids who only saw theirs every few months or a few times a year were odd because I saw mine so much. We spent weekends with them. Spring Breaks. You get the picture without me going on and on.
But when mom told me last night that Grandpa was dying, really dying this time? I think I was in shock. Maybe disbelief. So very many times, he's been literally to the point where doctors have said not to expect much over the years and he's fought back and stayed with us. I just didn't feel anything when she told me he wasn't going to be staying with us this time. He says it's too much. He can't move around on his own. He can't do a lot honestly. Thinking about all the changes hurts because I can't stand to see him hurting so much. I heard everything she said. Some of it was just heartbreaking and hearing my mom upset was a lot to handle. I just sat there and listened, taking it in. It didn't hit me though. I was hearing her, every word. I was hearing her pain and sadness in her words. I just didn't feel any of my own right then. It didn't feel real to me.
It's enough that my mom is going to be coming back to Texas here soon to help my grandmother take care of him and things around the house. One of my aunts is taking family medical leave from her job so she can help out, too. My grandmother has breast cancer and her own issues going on. Taking care of my grandfather is just too much for her on her own.
I follow my little sister on Tumblr. I saw her post something and read it. She's taking leave from her job in California to come back to Texas, too. She talked about it a little and talked about crying and being so emotional and upset. And that is when it hit me. Like a fucking sack of bricks. He's not going to make it through this time. I just sat there staring at her words on the screen. Then I clicked away and just sat there, thinking about all the times I had sat on a front porch talking with him or not saying anything and just sitting. All the times he would stand outside with us, helping us climb trees and standing there watching us, really so he could make sure we didn't get hurt. All the times he "got on to" grandma for griping at us over something silly. Then I got older and those trips got lesser so when I did have time to go see them, we just sat and talked. We'd play games with grandma and he'd sit in his recliner in the living room listening and making jokes or comments from time to time. I thought about when he met The Boyfriend and they sat and talked. I remember when he told The Boyfriend he could be part of the family and that he better always treat me right and take good care of me. All the times he's called me sugar and given me a hug, telling me he's happy I came to visit him. And all the times here lately where I've barely been able to understand half of what he tries to say but I always understand when he says I love you.
And then I cried. Hot tears rolling down my face until everything around me was blurry. I rested my head on my knees and sat there like that, crying and hoping if I cried enough that it would stop hurting. I ran out of tears before it stopped hurting. I knew realistically I wouldn't be able to cry it all out and be okay in one shot. I know it will take a while. I know to remember the good times I've had. I know to count myself lucky that I've had such a good relationship with him. I know once he passes he won't be hurting anymore. I know all of the positives that people are going to tell me to look at and be thankful for and honestly? None of that is going to make me feel better right now. I think sometimes, you just need to let something hurt and be sad about it for a while before you can be okay with it.