I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity. ~Gilda Radner
Vvvvvvvv Vvvvvvvvv (the sound of my phone vibrating). "Marty, Papa's in the hospital. He's dying." These are the words I woke up to this Friday morning. At 4am, Papa had gotten out of bed to pee and fell. My mum ran in to pick him up and as she did so, his eyes rolled up and he passed out (hmmm, sounds eerily familiar, eh?!). At the ER, an MRI was done and an aneurysm was found in his stomach. 8cm, leaking, and bleeding out into his abdomen. Having just celebrated his 88th birthday, and having undergone such illness and trauma only a couple of years ago, the doctor knew that Papa would not survive surgery to close it. All there is to do is wait...
I was on the first available flight out. Now 529$ for an "emergency fair" hardly seems compassionate considering the internet fair was 529$...I'll have to have a word with US Airways at a later date. I touched down in Newark at 10.55pm EST, hopped a cab and was on my way to the house. FYI, don't take a cab from Newark to the greater Bridgewater area unless you're willing to drop 75-100! Phew! The taxi pulled up, I jumped out, and the first thing I saw was the gaping smile of my Uncle Rob. I hugged him so tightly I could breathe through his lungs.
After being buffeted by family hugs, handshakes and kisses, I made it to Papa's bedside. The lights were low, the air stifled yet calm, and I sat in a blond wooden chair with oddly lain spindles that whispered "back breaker" from across the room. I looked at him in the dim glow and lay my hand to his right arm. His eyes opened briefly and instantly connected with my obsequious gaze. "Hiya sweetheart.", he said. " Hi Papa. I'm here. It's ok now. I love you. You are the greatest man in my life, you always will be.", I whispered into his ear as I stood, leaning over him, holding his cool dry hand, as he drifted off. "Okay."
It is now late night Saturday. I don't know that I could aptly put into words the feelings I possess at seeing my entire family in one place for the first time in decades! Rightly said, it sucks that the dying of my grandfather is the reason, however, it is still magnificent. Let not death ease the mind of trivial burden, though! Despite the circumstance, my family still manages to bicker, bitch, and chide each other. It got to the point where it was happening right over Papa's bed. That was enough. I told them to get out of the room. Now! I had a little talk with everyone for failure to know what else to do. I mean, here's my family, as much dysfunction as there is, I love them! Each and every one, with a passion! But this is not about them. It's about Papa! The man laying in bed, dying. The only father I've ever known, and their father! Not only is it bad juju for Papa, it was tearing Nana apart. And my mother...the Universe knows we've had a bitter and terrible relationship for many years (which I'm working on for all those scrutinous eyeballs out there!) and even from 3000 miles away I could see that she's been the pillar of the family! She took in Nana and Papa of her own accord, has taken care of them, provided for them, delt with all the poo from everybody, including myself, and she's still standing, still there. I saw a dire necessity in bringing this to the light for everyone. For cryin' out loud, just cut it out!
Calmness has now come. In the several moments I have sat at Papa's side, regarding him in the night, smiles come to my face. Smiles of memories in passing, of Barney's, of his treasure trove of found items stashed in the drawer of the night stand, of his finger and thumb firing off with a wink and a "Pkkkewgh", of the amazing man he has been.
I'd be a liar if I told you I shed no tears. They've been teenie tiny, and have not quite crested the inner eyes, but they've made themselves known. I've been preparing for this for a while now. It began when I embarked on my journey to the west coast those 8 years ago. Oh how the flood gates flew open! Knowing that I was traversing a continent and leaving Nana and Papa behind was one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life! Now yesterday, I was fighting back bouts of anxiety trying to arrange my flight here, but that all eased once he looked up at me with those big blues. I find comfort in knowing my peace is made. For as his body, merely a shell, dwindles, his spirit will flourish.
One of the crowning moments of the trip so far has been hangin' with my cousins R and J. We grew up together, intermittently, but none the less. And we three amigos bunked in the basement last night, rehashing old memories of yore, catching each other up on our lives and accomplishments, and perusing old photos. It was a hoot! And the second moment was probably seeing my cousin Charlie bound down the stairs in his clean shaven, hair combed, silk shirt wearin', cologne totin' greatness! He drove down from new Hampshire today. It was sooo great to see him again. Damn, I'm chokin' up... Pluukkeh! Excuse me.
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