the Goodbye Tour

This is most likely the last visit I will have with my Grandpa. He is so fragile now and his health is failing, and he has made the arduous trek up from North Carolina so that he can see his sisters and children and grandkids one last time.

His hearing is terrible. It can make conversations with him incredibly frustrating, but they are precious nonetheless. He talks a lot about my Grandma. She died in a nursing home 2 years ago with dementia that made her bitter and confused and and unrecognizable. His last memories of her are not good-- he tells me that once he went to visit her and she had been screaming all day that the staff was going to pour cement on her. He had tried to calm her down, to reassure her that she was ok, but she wouldn't listen. I can tell it's impossible for him to reconcile this image with the woman he loved for over half a century. But still, he says, he often reaches over for her in bed at night and briefly forgets that she is not there.

I just nod and listen, and try not to cry. It's strange and distressing to see my Grandpa like this, to see his heart so irretrievably broken. He says that when they talked about who would die first, it was always him.

I will always hold the memory of my Grandparents as inseparable. And as cliche as it is, it really is comforting to know that they will be together again someday soon. My Grandpa will probably not live to see my wedding or see me start a family, but he will be so happy to be with Grandma again. I hope someday that I find love that is even a fraction of what they've had.

This visit is bittersweet all around, but I am so grateful for it. I will try to soak up as much as I can, the good and the bad and any memory he wants to share. He is the only Grandpa I have ever known, and I'm so blessed to call him that.