Mortality

I've been thinking about mortality a lot over the past week or so. First, with Michael's passing, then, finding out that Donnie (the Mustard Seed's #1 Oilers and Eskimos fan) has about a week to live, and today, walking into a hospital room and seeing my grandpa hooked up to machines with tubes attached all over his body.

At first I wasn't even 100% sure it was my grandpa - he looked so frail, he was sleeping, but his mop of curly grey hair gave him away. He always kept his curls tamed with Bryl Cream, but I suppose that's not too much of a priority in the hospital.

I watched him sleep for a while, and then I walked to the other side of the bed to look at his wristband to make sure it was him. Wouldn't that be silly if I was sitting beside a complete stranger? He opened one eye, looked at me and said, "Kathy Jo" in a quiet, slurred voice, and I figured he must be on a lot of medication. He tried to sit up and joked about how it would hurt if he pulled any of the tubes out. He then asked if I'd give him some ice chips. His mouth looked so dry, and he savored those ice chips as if they were rich European chocolate. He thanked me, and I asked if he wanted to go back to sleep. He said yes, I gave him a kiss, and left.

I logically know that my grandparents will not live forever, but I'm not ready to say goodbye yet. When I was a kid I thought I'd be stronger as an adult and could let them go, but I'm not - it's going to be so hard. I just hope I can have one more game of crib - we haven't played crib in so long.