Back from school after a long weekend. And by long I don’t really mean because we all had Monday off.
Saturday I loss my grandfather (we called him Papa). From what I was told it was around 3 in the morning when my aunt got the call he passed. She said he wasn’t doing well the night before so she asked the nursing home to make him as comfortable as possible.
Three years ago when I was living in Alaska, Papa flew to California from the Philippines with our grandmother to help my family out who had just moved there. It was almost immediately after they settled in he had a really bad stroke which since then left him pretty much a vegetable. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and after a while he couldn’t even focus on us. It was so sad to see what used to be such a strong man suddenly reduced to nothing.
When I left Alaska and moved to California I did my best to visit him every chance I got. I knew he was lonely living in the nursing home with no family there. My grandmother is old but still kicking so she had no reason to be there. I felt bad because every time we visited Papa, she would spend maybe 5 minutes with him then run off and talk to the nurses and everyone. I always stayed. I felt bad because I never knew what to say to him when it was just the two of us in the room. My dad would always say not to touch him so I couldn’t even comfort him by holding his hand. After going to Florida and coming back, no one would take me to go see him anymore. I might have gone once. I don’t even remember anymore. But either way, after that I never got to see him again.
He has spent three years, THREE YEARS on that bed, never moving, never talking, just existing. His soul has been trapped. It always hurt me to say it, but I wished my family could have just set him free rather than let him spend his last few years the way he did. I mentioned he was always such a strong man. His dignity was the least we could’ve given him.
Papa’s passing is a blessing for him. His soul is finally able to soar and he no longer has to suffer. I’m so happy, but it still hurts. I’m crying now just writing this. I don’t like to cry. I hope he’s happy. I believe in an afterlife and I know my mother’s spirit is happy to have him with her.
