Today my Grandpa George passed away. He was 94 years old. He has been quite frail and sick for sometime, so his passing was a welcomed blessing. I had the chance to visit him one last time with my mom last Sunday. She called me up as I was giving the girls their bath, and said she was going to visit Grandpa, and she would be to my place in 20 min. to pick me up. She never does things like this. I know she was inspired. It was so hard to see Grandpa that day. He was a tall man in his prime at six two, and 185 lbs. Last Sunday, he was somewhere around 110 lbs., could barely sit in a wheel chair, let alone stand. My heart just ached for him. I could see the pain he was in, especially when a nurse had to help lift him up in his wheel chair. He just winced in pain. How could you not when all you have left is skin and bones. In the weeks before his passing the nurses said he had been asking where his wife was. They explained as kindly as they could that she had been gone for almost 30 years. Another time, the nurses caught him acting out (as if playing charades) like he was reeling in a fish. Fishing was a beloved past time of his that he had been unable to do for many years due to the effects of Parkinson's and old age. My Aunt Shelly works as a nurse in a nursing home, and said that when people are close to passing, they no longer look ahead in their lives, they look back. I hope the memories that played back in his mind were ones that brought him peace and joy and comfort. I hope he didn't have any regrets, and that he knew in his heart and in his mind what a kind, gentle man he was, and what a great life he lead.
I love him for the sweet Grandfather he was to me. He often emptied his pockets of gum and loose change, and let me have it all. I remember rolling down the huge hill in his back yard as a child, and rummaging through my Grandma Ruth's old Avon inventory. I always came upstairs with a treasure or two (usually a rancid lipstick or perfume sample, or a nail polish color my grandma couldn't even sell years before), and he always let me keep my loot. I think that is where my love of all things make up stemmed from! I have fond memories of the house he lived in most of his life. I can still see the gold fuzzy wallpaper, and green carpet, and hear the cheeks in the floor. I remember the bench he had in his entry way filled with old toys, which most likely contained lead paint, but they provied hours of entertainment, and I turned out okay-lead paint and all! He sold the house a few years back so he could be in a care facility. I know it was so hard for him to leave that house. I helped move some of his things out, and the house felt like a time capsule for his life. In the upstairs attack, we pulled out a trunk that had his World War II Navy uniform in it. I can't help but think of how handsome he was with his thick black hair in his navy pictures. The furniture, for the most part, was stuff that had been there since my mom was a child. I did love going up to the attack rooms that had been hers and finding old trinkets from her past. I would comb through the old magazines, and open drawers hoping to find things that had belonged to my mom or her sisters all those years back. When I think of my Grandpa, the Grandpa I knew as a child, I think of that house. I think the day he moved from that house, and knew he would never be back, he lost a part of himself.
In the years since I've been married, I think my grandpa loved Chuck more that he loved me. Whenever he called the house, he talked to me for a minute or two (on a good day), and then ask if Chuck was home! He wanted to know all about my husband's latest hunting or fishing trips, and then he wanted to talk about his guns! He had a gun cabinet that had been moved to my parents house after he moved from his house, and he always wanted to know how his guns were! He loved my kids, and often said how handsome my boys were, and how my girls looked like I did. When he met Callie for the first time, he kept calling her little Ruthie. We named her Callie Ruth after my grandma, his wife.
My parents went to see him last night. He was having a hard time breathing and swallowing. He kept a tight grip on my mom's hand, and told her he wanted to go. My Mom told him that he should, that everyone was waiting for him on the other side. I am so grateful that I know he is with my Grandma Ruth, and his parents and other family members. I know that he is not gone, but that he has just passed. Passed to the other side, and someday he will welcome me with open arms, along with my other family members who have gone before me. I pray that I too can live a long full life just like my Grandpa George.
Callie and I stopped at the historical farm near our house on our way home. The farm was breathtaking! It really felt like something on a postcard! I showed Callie the tiny snowflakes as they landed on the sleeve my black wool coat. I wish I could have captured her little face as she realized that real snowflakes were more beautiful than ones cut out of paper. 
July 2019 OREGON part 1 7/1-7/8
6 years ago
