Final moment – saying goodbye.

Saying goodbye when you aren’t expecting to is incredibly difficult.

The accident happened within viewing distance of my bedroom window.

How insane is that?

Every day, I can look outside and imagine what happened that day. I suppose I should thank my lucky stars that I did not drive by that day. My aunt drove by and said that even though the scene had cleared, there was still blood across the pavement.

If I had seen everything, I probably would be having nightmares.

His cane and shoes were found on the sidewalk to the side of the garage. His body was found in the middle of the road. Blood and tire marks streaked from the garage to the middle of the road. His body – so mangled and torn up. Multiple broken ribs, a broken pelvis and collarbone, bruised lungs.

When the surgeon came in to give us the update, the list seemed to go on and on – injury upon injury. We couldn’t even recognize him. He was entirely swollen, all the wrinkles of an 88 year old man stretched out and no longer visible.

After hours and hours, they finally stopped all the internal bleeding. The fact that he’d taken aspirin that morning did not help. Critical condition and under watch throughout the night. The family was given the options. He had a chance of survival, but his quality of living was not guaranteed to be the best. After all, the healing time at 88 varies greatly from that at 20.

Saying Goodbye

We surrounded his bedside on Friday morning – five of his children, five of his in-laws, five of his grandchildren.

His body was weak.

The respiratory therapist did his job, and we waited.

It did not take very long.

His two last breaths – 1:45pm, Friday February 16th.

Saying Goodbye - Grandfather

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  • No words can convey to you my feelings so I will send you a ((HUG)) and prayers for your grandfather.

  • I’m sorry to hear about your grandfather. May he rest in peace. Condolences to you and your family.

  • Hey, I know it isn’t any consolation, but I can totally empathize what you are going through. I lost my aunt to a similar type of car accident. It has been 2 years now and my loss of her in my life is still tangible. I wasn’t in San Diego when it happened, but I heard from my cousin, her daughter, the details. I read in the newspapers the first hand accounts of people that saw the accident happen and I saw photos from the press of the accident site.

    My thoughts are definitely with you and your family. I know how it changes people and makes you re-evaluate life.

  • It seems so ordinary to lose a grandparent. Afterall, they’re old and they are expected to die; it’s a knoew fact that all old people die. But for some reason, losing a grandparent is so devastating and out of the ordinary. To lose a grandparent is to lose your family history, a guiding light, a loved one.

    When my grandma died of cancer that spread through her body so quickly that it absorbed her healthy cells the way water passes through a dry paper towel, I almost couldn’t breathe. I wasn’t there with her to watch her take her last breaths, and I knew that if I had the chance I wouldn’t have gone anyway.

    But the oddities started happening after she died: a dead leaf stuck itself to my car antenna for the 85mph drive home from the wake and stayed there until I pulled into my driveway where it fell off instantly in the dead silence of windlessness. It should’ve broken, this leaf, and fallen off hours ago, but it followed me home and as I watched it swaying lightly from my antenna, all I could think of was her.

    And another thing. The street lights all flickered as I drove home. One by one they turned off and on in a line as I traveled past. Now whenever I see a street lamp flicker, I know my grandmother is there with me.

    I guess what I am trying to tell you is that he is with you. If you listen hard enough, you can still hear him. Sometimes, out of nowhere you may see a sign, or maybe you will just feel him in your heart.

    But he loves you baby, and he’ll always be there. And in that same manner you can be there for him. Just keep loving him. I’m sure that’s what he would’ve wanted.

    Love you.

  • There’s nothing I can say or do that will particularly help but I’m sending you transatlantic mental hugs. {{Suki}}

  • I’ve never seen a post this old!

    • Yeah, I’m finally going back and updating links and adding photos if I have any to include. :) You have a lot to catch up on.