Loss

It dawned on me the other day that I hadn't written in my blog for a few weeks. Most days seem to just fly by for me, and I barely can hold on.

11 days ago, time stopped cold in my life. I got the phone call I've been dreading for 3 1/2 years, ever since my paps went into the nursing home. The last year has been a real stuggle for him, with constant infection and a case of broken spirit/serious home sickness.

11 days ago, during a voice lesson i was teaching, my mom told me to put myself on the first plane to Ohio, and do it now. Code: he's dying, come home now. My husband went to work finding me a ticket, and I kep teaching because I was so rattled I couldn't have driven safely anyway.

I left Orlando at 5:00am the next day(which means I got up at 3, after not sleeping a wink), and got home mid day. First stop, the hospital. My mom was a wreck, my paps wasn't coherent, and had lost 50 lbs since July. I've never sat vigil waiting for someone to die, but I wasn't looking forward to this. Besides that, I can't stand my aunts, and they were all coming, of course.

Fast forward one day, and my brothers from other parts of Ohio came in, my cousin from Columbus, and my other cousin from Southern KY were all there. They decided to move him to Hospice, which he arrived to around 8. By 10:05, he was gone. Peacefully, with his entire family around him, he let us go. I won't ever forget that moment. He was the biggest, strongest, and most amazing man I've ever or will ever know. He was the only grandfather I ever had, and I think I will miss him everyday for the rest of my life.

We buried him last Tuesday, and I came back last Wednesday, but I can't seem to resume my life. My brain isn't functioning well, and I'm eating everything I can get my hands on. There is a gaping hole in my life now, and I know that I can't fill it. He's not sitting in that wretched nursing home any more, but the next time I go home, I'll have to go to the cemetary to visit. Although, I must say, he's got the corner lot of the cemetary, on a hill, overlooking a soy bean field and the hills. It's a room with a view for eternity for sure. I had him for 28 years, and 16 of those I spent right next door on the farm living the life only a few kids get to live. My brothers and I spent time with him that none of the cousins ever got to, and I will cherish those memories my whole life.

Profound sense of loss sort of describes what I'm going through. My life won't ever be the same, and I don't know how to cope with that. But I'm doing the best I can.