2004-08-09 - 12:33 p.m.
Oh, how seckulahhhh! Halloween is on a Sunday this year! My Baptist family members are going to just hate that.
My grandfather is in the hospital. He�s had dementia for many months now. It�s not Alzheimer�s cuz that starts around 60-plus years of age and he�s 93. But, Jerry, what you don�t know is...he was SO with it up until this past year. He used to do all of the gardening and I�m not just talking flowers...there were vegetables involved also and big trees that grew really big, m�kay. He�d get down on his hands and knees and WORK outside in the heat of Florida. He always fed the birds every week and cleaned out their bird bath. He took over raising my cats after I high-tailed it out of my mother�s house. He grew roses and picked them for my grandmother and even though they were huger than the palm of your hand, he�d still complain and say they didn�t grow like they did up north, in Maryland. He drove too up until the last couple years. He liked to eat soup a lot and wore socks on his feet every day of the year (even in the heat). His tongue is so long, that he can eat ice cream out of a coffee cup without using a spoon. And when he smiles at you, his eyes are so blue they match the sunny early summer sky...the darker shade of sky blue that surrounds those huge white puffy cumulus clouds.
He�s going to die soon.
His lower intestines are bleeding internally and his brain is bleeding. That is what was causing the recent aggressiveness. Sigh. My mother tried to help him for the last month or so, urging him to take his medicine (he needs Synthroid�that is where my mother and I get our thyroid troubles) and trying to get him to eat and drink, which he refuses frequently. He tells my mother that she is the devil and he just KNOWS she�s trying to kill him and he pushed Meem (my grandmother) the other night which prompted my mother to finally call 911, but not till the next day. Meem is okay. He still knows my son though. He stares right through almost everyone else, but when he saw Jimmy Friday and Saturday before they called 911 on Sunday, he kept saying, �There�s Jimmy, there�s my boy. Now, that�s what life is all about. Yeah, hi, Jimmy! How you doin� boy?� And in the same breath refuses medicine and hydration from my mother and tells her she has the devil in her. Now, in my teen years, I would have agreed with him, but the poor man is losing it.
I wish I had better memories of him, but he was strictly business around us grandchildren and I don�t think he knew how to deal with female children. He wasn�t inappropriate, but he was distant if you were a girl. My mother is going to request him to be put in Hope Hospice care. His own mother died of stomach cancer. These are my genetics. My grandmother and her heart disease, my grandfather and his intestine and thyroid trouble. He�s not diagnosed with stomach cancer, but how many reasons are there for your intestines to bleed a river internally?
He was in whatever the Merchant Marines were years ago. Then he had his own painting business for years. Their house up in Maryland that they sold was painted a �robin egg�s blue� by his hand of course. It had a huge vegetable garden out back with cucumbers which he absolutely hated all his life, but said he grew them for me when I came to visit, lettuce, strawberries, etc. A big holly tree out back. And of course, tons of bird feeders. Down here when my mother moved them in with her, he painted the house first bright turquoise blue (now it�s pink via my brother-in-law, another painter) and then all the interior walls were different colors per each room. I called it the Easter Egg house. The living room is yellow, the bedroom is pink, the bathroom was blue, etc. I�m not into pastels or pretty colors.
When he was much younger, he always had pet dogs that he took hunting with him. Bird dogs and spaniel-type dogs, retrievers and the like. He hunted for deer, I guess. He chopped his own Christmas trees. My mom said violin playing runs in his family, his parents or siblings played the violin. This year, I entered Chloe�s name into the violin �lottery� at school. I did not know this information about the family having any musical talent until just two days ago. I asked my mother why she didn�t tell us sooner, why did she let it skip generations? She said she had forgotten.
When I was 15 is when my grandparents moved in with my mom. I was still living there too. It was hard cuz I didn�t click with them at all and had no sense of wanting to please them. I could care less. He was my ride to work most of the time. I always joke around with my friend about how he used to act. He was more responsible than I was when it came to my job. He was trying to teach me timeliness and he meant well, but I didn�t appreciate it. I laughed instead. He would start the car up and say: �FINE, I�M LEAVING WITHOUT YOU IF YOU�RE NOT READY!!� (I say that to my children now when they aren�t ready for school yet, when the DCF Goddess knows that I could never get away with just leaving them home alone all day.) And he really had no reason to be on that side of town. He was just trying to teach me to hurry up and always be on time to work. Kmmm. Everything about him drove me nuts. His listening to the ball games on the radio...and this was in the 90's. How he�d always peek at me out in the garage talking to my friends. We were like oil and water.
But I still hope his last moments are tolerable. I hear stories about how families are gathered around and suddenly the dying person is alert and happy and wishing someone well, and then suddenly passes on seconds later. You know, I hope he doesn�t go out not knowing anyone in the room or being aggressive. Poor Pop-Pop. I hope you feel better soon, Pop.
