Around this time last year, my grandfather died at 88 years old. It was cancer; it had started in his colon and spread to his lungs. I'd lived with him since I was 18. Up until I was 36, we kept...
Around this time last year, my grandfather died at 88 years old. It was cancer; it had started in his colon and spread to his lungs.
I'd lived with him since I was 18. Up until I was 36, we kept up that alliance, transitioning from surrogate father/son to something more akin to longtime roommates and finally to caretaker/caretakee as he became weaker and more dependent. I went through three relationships and got engaged all while living with him. It was a long time.
The day when he finally entered hospice and went into full-time residential care - when he left for good, never to return - was probably the single most emotional day of my life. More emotional than the moment he died, more than when I found him weeping after my grandmother sustained the injury that would kill her, more than any breakup or love I'd had. It wasn't a good emotion or a bad emotion but all of the emotions, because it was all of life, converging at a point, and then that point converging into nothing at all, and that horrible realization, that moment when the finality of it, which I knew but I did not know, was given physical form, was manifest before me. If only I could cling to that moment, prevent him from stepping out that door, maybe, somehow, I could hold off the tide...
It's been a year; I'd like to say I'm over it. And life certainly has gone on. But I'm going to have to make that journey one day, as will everyone else I know and love, so, really, there's no over to get over. That feeling is stained into me and I will carry it until the day I die, when someone else who loves me will get to shoulder the burden on my behalf. And so it goes.
As an ex-cabbie/dispatcher, drivers like this are why I always defend the industry. I've known many of similar spirit. I've seen men break down crying at the end of shift over the tragedy they've...
As an ex-cabbie/dispatcher, drivers like this are why I always defend the industry. I've known many of similar spirit. I've seen men break down crying at the end of shift over the tragedy they've seen on the street. Anyone who claims all cab drivers are bad hasn't a clue what they go through and who they really are. Props to this driver for giving her a free ride.
This is one of these times when you just know that you will return to a site at some point in the future and it will move you the same way it did when you first read it. So off you go, little URL,...
This is one of these times when you just know that you will return to a site at some point in the future and it will move you the same way it did when you first read it.
So off you go, little URL, to that most special folder of bookmarks...
Around this time last year, my grandfather died at 88 years old. It was cancer; it had started in his colon and spread to his lungs.
I'd lived with him since I was 18. Up until I was 36, we kept up that alliance, transitioning from surrogate father/son to something more akin to longtime roommates and finally to caretaker/caretakee as he became weaker and more dependent. I went through three relationships and got engaged all while living with him. It was a long time.
The day when he finally entered hospice and went into full-time residential care - when he left for good, never to return - was probably the single most emotional day of my life. More emotional than the moment he died, more than when I found him weeping after my grandmother sustained the injury that would kill her, more than any breakup or love I'd had. It wasn't a good emotion or a bad emotion but all of the emotions, because it was all of life, converging at a point, and then that point converging into nothing at all, and that horrible realization, that moment when the finality of it, which I knew but I did not know, was given physical form, was manifest before me. If only I could cling to that moment, prevent him from stepping out that door, maybe, somehow, I could hold off the tide...
It's been a year; I'd like to say I'm over it. And life certainly has gone on. But I'm going to have to make that journey one day, as will everyone else I know and love, so, really, there's no over to get over. That feeling is stained into me and I will carry it until the day I die, when someone else who loves me will get to shoulder the burden on my behalf. And so it goes.
Thanks, OP, for linking this very poignant post.
As an ex-cabbie/dispatcher, drivers like this are why I always defend the industry. I've known many of similar spirit. I've seen men break down crying at the end of shift over the tragedy they've seen on the street. Anyone who claims all cab drivers are bad hasn't a clue what they go through and who they really are. Props to this driver for giving her a free ride.
This is one of these times when you just know that you will return to a site at some point in the future and it will move you the same way it did when you first read it.
So off you go, little URL, to that most special folder of bookmarks...
Thanks for sharing.