Jun 9th, 2008, 05:53 AM
Death
My grandmother is dying, if she isn't already dead by the time that I post this. There's no way around it, she has cancer in her bone marrow and the doctors say that she has a few days, at best. I went today to go see her for the first time since she went to the hospital, a visit long neglected due to work and school. When I first saw her, I thought I had gone into the wrong room. A face that had once been so vibrant and full of life was now sullen and hollow, reminiscent of Holocaust victims seen in pictures at the end of World War II. Her breathing was painful and laborious, more like a choking gasp than anything else. She could barely keep her eyes open, much less speak or maintain consciousness. Though I haven't cried since the 5th grade, I freely admit that I became a bit choked up and I couldn't bear the emotion as I watched my grandfather, a man hardened by war and many years working as a steelworker, crying helplessly and trying to comfort my grandmother as she slipped in and out of pain induced nightmares.
As I tried to reconcile myself to the fact that I will never see her again, at least not in this life, I found myself unable to contain my tears. This woman had been instrumental in raising me. When I didn't have a father, when my mother didn't know how to help me, my grandparents were there. In my most troubled hours, she was always there to lend me advice or to talk me through my distress, and now I couldn't even understand her speech, much less help ease her pain. Though I know she was happy to see me, and I think it gave her strength, there's no doubt that she won't last much longer. It's 4:51 a.m., central time, as I post this. A few hours ago, she asked permission from my mother, my uncles, and most importantly, my grandfather, to let go of this life because she was tired of fighting. There's nothing I can do. My frustration is overwhelming.
But it's okay guys, CAUSE I HAD REESES FOR BREAKFAST
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Joking about death really isn't that nice.
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