It’s Friday and I’m at work. My sister calls and I turn down the call since I’m in a meeting. Within 1 minute she calls again so I’ll take the call and tell her that I only have time when it’s really important. Unfortunately it is, grandpa has inflammation of the lungs, deadly to somebody of his age.
Grandpa is my only grandpa I’ve ever knew. He isn’t the father of my mother but that doesn’t make any difference for me. He was a cab driver in Amsterdam and always had great stories to tell, if he told a story you wished you would have been born earlier. He spent all his money enjoying life when he still could and he was fit for most of his life. Last year we saw him getting old really fast and during the last months it was cruel to see somebody almost getting worse by the day. He didn’t had any concrete disease but he lost about all functions in his body 1 by 1.
Back to Friday. I rush from work and meet my family at his room at the nursing center. He is still awake but is barely able to speak any words. He recognises everybody right away, his body isn’t willing anymore but he knows exactly what’s happening. The last couple of weeks he already wished he would die, there was no chance on recovery anymore. We need to say goodbye, he is awake now but as soon as he gets morphine he will probably go to sleep for the last time. It’s the first time I can really say goodbye to somebody who is dying and it makes it even harder because he understands exactly what is happening. Till the end he didn’t lose his sense of humor, he still makes jokes but each word cost loads of energy. He says thank you, he says goodbye. We say goodbye and he says: “As long as I’m awake, I can’t die”. He is just to tired to stay awake, it’s time to leave, it’s time to let him rest.
The next morning at 05:30 he breathe out his last breath. The only things that remain are great memories.
Rest in peace