The past weeks have been hard for me because of the constant pull I feel to be back in Abilene with my family. We have made two different trips to see my grandparents, once just for them to meet Rhys and hang out, and the other because my grandfather was in very bad health and looked like he wouldn't have much more time. He spent one horrible night in the ICU and the doctors told him they couldn't do anything for him. He was sent to the hospice floor, where I assume most patients don't leave alive. But somehow the next day he was talking more, was hungry and wanted to see lots of visitors. The day after that he was up with a walker and took a shower. He was knocking back milkshakes and hamburgers. I bet the nurses thought he was a little too feisty and our huge noisy family was probably not the norm around there.
So after 5 days of being there, we headed back home. We had exhausted our supplies and were really missing Daddy. The next step for my grandpa was to have a home health nurse and some therapists come see him at home, and the hope was that he would regain his strength. The day before we were leaving, I had a quiet moment with him and he told me a few things about his life that I never knew. He enlisted in the military right out of school and was stationed in Florida, where he met my grandmother at church. He said the first time he saw her, she was arguing with someone. (My grandmother confirmed later it was the pastor's daughter!) And I laughed and said, "And you thought to yourself, "We could do that for the rest of our lives?!?" He just smiled.
I asked him how they stayed together for all these years and he said, "We didn't know there was any other option." He was a flight engineer and served through several deployments and war. They moved around and he and my grandmother raised three daughters. My mother graduated high school in Kansas and got married herself at just 19. She and my dad moved off to Wyoming, but after my grandfather officially retired from the military, he convinced them to move to Texas and start up a construction business. His last station was at Dyess AFB, and Abilene just felt like a good place to stay put.
My dad and grandpa would remodel little FHA houses and made it work for quite a few years. Neither of them had much experience before they dove right in, and I guess that's how my dad's motto was cemented - "Knowing how is not a requirement." When that business slowed down, they opened their first video store in Anson. They even added in a pizza parlor and sandwich shop and called the place "Good Stuff." I remember my dad tossing pizza dough in our old kitchen for family dinners and we were thankful that we had a high ceiling!
They were in business together for a long time before my dad branched out with a different company. My grandfather eventually sold all the small town video stores he owned and concentrated all his efforts on the store in Abilene called "Video Time." We voted as a family on the name, all sitting in my grandparents den when I was probably still in elementary school.
I was in college when he finally closed that store and retired. I figured he and my grandmother would go crazy suddenly having so much time together! But something seemed to slowly change in my grandfather. After one particular health scare, he developed a newfound joy in cooking and suddenly claimed a spot in the kitchen that he had never cared about before. Maybe too much hospital food made his palette more sophisticated. :) And then the two of them started going back to church. They made friends and got into a regular domino group. (I am totally jealous, Bo and I would love to have a regular night to sit and talk with friends!) And the thing I am most proud of is that my grandparents became regulars with Meals on Wheels. They realized how fortunate they were to still be active and healthy, so they gave their time to take food to those that weren't.
His heart and lung issues have been on and off over the last few years. Every time he would look like he couldn't last much longer, he somehow would. He and my grandmother occasionally had to trade off who was taking care of who, but they stuck together. And he has seemed to be so grateful for having our family there, even if he doesn't say it in so many words. Their big house is the place we always gather in for holidays, with way too much food and kids everywhere. It used to be his grandchildren, but now there is an entire new batch of great-grandchildren running from room to room.
And it was in one of those rooms that my grandfather fell last week. My aunt and grandmother had such a hard time getting him up that another ambulance came and took him back to the hospital. They are saying again that he might not come home after this time. He has visited with every member of our family and has said many goodbyes. He even got on Skype with his brother since he lives farther away. My grandmother has told him that it is okay to let go when he is ready, but the last time this happened, she told him to tell God when he got to heaven that she wanted more time.
In a strange way, I feel so much anguish for my mother because I have experienced losing my father before she did. When your father is gone, you feel like the person you could always count on to be your worldly wisdom and protector is gone. I don't know which is worse - to say goodbye slowly and watch your loved one be in a hospital bed or to not get the chance to say goodbye at all, to have them cut off quickly and cleanly.
I will need to decide soon whether I am going to go back again for another few days to see him. Of course I would rather be there when he is alive than just arrive for a funeral. But things are confusing right now and all of my family's homes are a bit crowded. The thought of more days without Bo and taking care of two children by myself sounds exhausting and makes me feel like we are more of a hassle than help to my mother and grandmother. It just sucks that there is no etiquette for how to love someone and let go.
