Grandpa

     I think I may have walked into his room too fast. Too fast to prepare myself for what I had gone there for. It’s as if I purposely threw myself into his room as if I was peeling a band-aid off real fast.

     When I walked into my Grandpa’s room, I saw him laying in his bed. Sleeping. His mouth open, breathing in air, and exhaling. In a rhythmnic way. He had an eye half open, the other was closed. It was as if he was watching the room, but yet he appeared to be asleep, like I remember him sleeping on his favorite chair in the livingroom of his house when I was a kid.

     My grandpa was a big, strong man. Wide shoulders, thick arms, solid body and head full of hair. Not in recent years. Especially not today. Grandpa is all bones now. I had just seen him a couple days earlier. He was thin, of course, but certainly not like this. I don’t know how, but it’s as if he lost even more weight.

     He lay on his bed, in a sack of skin and bones. His ribs clearly outlined in his button-down flannel shirt. His pelvis was visible, as he was holding the bottom of his shirt in his soft fists. His hands were bruised from ivies and shots he received from the past few weeks. Those bruises never healed. His hands, which were big and thick and strong, have given in to age, and deterioration of health, were not my Grandpa’s hands anymore. He is not himself anymore. His age and his dying body now has the best of him.

     My Grandpa lived a healthy, long life. My Grandma passed away just under three years ago. My Grandpa is the last of his generation in my family. He outlived his brothers and sister. He was one of the oldest in his family, and he lived the longest. I think my Grandma has alot to do with it. She kept him in line. She kept him eating healthy. She kept his heart and his affection. She was his beloved wife. She took care of him.

     As I write this, I am saddened that he passed away a few hours ago. I started to write this last night, but could not finish. I loved my Grandpa and my Grandma very much. I wish I had spent more time with them than I did. But I spent alot of time with them nontheless. I have loads of fond memories of times with them. Now they are gone. It’s strange that I lived as long as I have with Grandparents. Most of my friends lost their’s long ago.

     Now they are in a better place. Reunited with loved ones. I know they are having fun. I know they are giving each other those kisses that made me feel funny to see. And I know the family will be ok. Because they will watch over us all, and all will be fine.

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