My grandfather

It has been 2 years since my grandfather passed away. Of my grandfathers (three in total), I would definitely have to say that I was closest with him. He had two sons and only one had any children. I was the only girl that he really ever had.

He was a brilliant man. He was a pharmacist who owned his own pharmacy. I heard stories of Dad and his brother running through the store and being quite mischievous. Grandpa made a huge impact on the community. During the visitation for him following his death, there were so many people who knew him through the pharmacy and told me stories about him (he was a very humble man and never "tooted his own horn") and about his two boys. It was neat to see...years after he had retired and sold his pharmacy...the lasting impact he had on people.

As his health was declining over the last few years, as it would for anyone as they age, his memory declined even faster. We don't really know exactly how long it went on before my parents and I realized what was going on. My grandmother, bless her heart, did her best to ensure that he knew who was coming over before we got there. She tried to make everything seem like it was "normal". I understand why. Mostly, it's a two-fold reason: she wants to protect them in being able to stay together and she had a hard time admitting that something was wrong.


His dementia progressed and he declined rapidly over the course of just under a year. He was still my grandfather. Even when he had no clue who I was, he still made me smile by telling me how pretty I was and how adorable my children were (he was imagining these children sitting beside of me as we were in his hospital room) and that they looked just like their father.

In the days before he died, I spent a significant amount of time with him in his home, where my grandmother promised she would let him die, taking care of him. It got difficult to see him as he was and not do anything. With my background in EMS, I was struggling to not immediately do something to help him. After my 4-day break from work, I had to return on Sunday. I knew that when I left his home on Saturday evening that it would be the last time I saw him alive. I gave him a kiss and left with tears welling up in my eyes. All the times that I have watched people die have not jaded me from the emotion of the moment and situation. I tend to just be able to control it when I'm at work or around other people.

Mom and Dad came by the station on Sunday evening to inform me that Grandpa had died that afternoon. It was a sigh of relief for me that he was not hurting any longer.

Even though Grandpa is no longer here, he still is in so many ways. He worked hard to help instill good values in me. He loved me, and I can always hold onto that. I miss him, for certain, but I know that I will see him again soon.