Grandpa was pronounced brain dead a little before 8:30 p.m. Friday. Grandma got to see him before the end, but in her physical and mental state from the illnesses and strokes, I'm not certain how much she understands at this point.
Sometime soon, Squeaky and I will talk to Boo about it. I'm not sure how much he'll understand, either.
The end was somewhat of a relief, knowing that he was finally at peace. Plus, everyone knew he didn't want to linger in such a state. One of his siblings apparently lasted almost a year before dying, and Grandpa was certain he didn't want that to happen to him. And it didn't.
My grandfather (adopted) was a complicated man. He was a soldier. He was an airman. He was an auto worker for well-nigh on 35 years. He was a husband. He was a father. He was a grandfather. He was a great-grandfather.
He was also a bit of a racist. He wasn't a violent or mean racist--he was a Southerner who grew up in a time when it was not only tolerated but considered proper.
But in the last decade or so, he saw the light insofar as to realize that you can't use certain words in public or private anymore. And I think in the last few years he might have come to some deeper realizations.
Sometime in the last two weeks, while his wife was trying to recover from encephalitis/MRSA/UTIs, he probably had a stroke that cut blood supply to the part of his brain that handles motor functions. He was a bit clumsier than usual for the last couple of weeks, but nothing drastic.
Sometime Christmas morning, probably around 6 a.m., he fell to the floor of his assisted living apartment. He was at least conscious when care workers arrived, but he deteriorated rapidly before he was transfered to Miami Valley Hospital.
It appears that the clot or whatever blocking the blood broke, causing bleeding in his brain and brain stem.
For the life of me, I don't know what Grandma's going to do without him. He was trying to be strong to support her. He missed her while she was hospitalized and he wasn't. He kept telling her that he needed for her to get better. It just never occured to me that he might go first.
She only knows he's sick right now. I haven't seen her since two weeks ago when I visited them both, and I don't know how I'm going to be able to see her before Grandpa dies without falling apart.
I don't really think she's going to live long without him.
See, one of the issues when you only get comp time for overtime is that, if you have to cover for someone else taking time off, you end up accruing time at a significant rate. When my co-worker was gone for a week, I picked up 2.5 days of comp time for doing shift-and-a-half.
So I got to December with three weeks of vacation left.
I can roll one over to next year, but had to take the rest or lose it. So I'm off this coming week, back at work for a week, then off the week of Christmas.
So far, my goals are fairly mundane: 1. Fix oven door 2. Clean house 3. Catch up on movies I've missed 4. Expand my wedding photography Web site 5. Put up Christmas tree 6. Begin creating Christmas gifts
I should also add "sleep" to the list, but maybe I'll save that for Christmas week. Zippy 6:38 AM