I usually wouldn't post about something like this, but I'm in need of whatever measure of catharsis I can find at the moment:
On Sunday morning, my grandfather, who lives with us in the downstairs apartment, suffered a major stroke. Due to the fact that he awoke with the symptoms and they couldn't determine exactly when he suffered the stroke, they were unable to administer the "clot-busting" medication which generally minimizes the damage done, since it has to be given within a 3 hour window from the onset of symptoms. His left side is virtually paralyzed, though he retains sensitivity in his left leg (i.e., he responds to tickling etc.); he also finally moved his left arm this evening, which is encouraging. But despite these somewhat optimistic signs, the prognosis is grim according to the neurologists.
My grandfather is, quite frankly, the most wonderful person in the world. And that's not just my opinion, but the opinion of everyone who has ever been fortunate enough to know him. He exudes bonhomie and doesn't have a malicious bone in his body. He desires peace and good relations among people; he takes joy in the simple pleasures of life, like children, puppies, the oceanfront, good food, and casual conversation. He absolutely loved to travel to new places and experience new things. He is a man who always chooses to focus on the positive in people -- for instance, even if he and my grandmother had just argued, he'll tell me about what a wonderful woman she is and how strong she is. He has a natural charm and a sharp wit; he can light up a room with a smile or a clever remark. He has been a picture of moderation his entire life, and it's probably because of that that he's made it to 87 years of age.
He's no genius (his formal schooling stopped at the high school level), but he has a natural inquisitiveness and childlike wonder that pervades his whole being, and which remained with him his whole life. He'd always want to read about science (biology especially), the natural world, how to build things or how things work etc. He's a man who strikes up conversation with anyone, and he usually befriends people very quickly (for example, I took him to the local pier -- he loves fishing -- and he started chatting up some of the locals, who told him to meet them there the next day and go out on their boat with them). He was from a different time, from a generation that was fundamentally decent and hardworking and, quite honestly, more noble in spirit than ours today. I know it sounds like I'm only giving you the good side of my grandpa, but I'm not -- there's really very little that's bad about him. He had what I would call a pure heart -- I can honestly say that I've never heard him speak ill of anyone, nor express any malicious or immoral desires, even in private. What he truly loved in life was friendship, good cheer, and good relations. He loved his family, and the way his eyes would light up when he spoke of the good times he used to have with his family and friends when he was younger made you want to be there. He is patient, generous, and always quick with words of encouragement.
My grandfather was a WW2 veteran who was captured in the Battle of the Bulge and served his country admirably. He never spoke of his wartime experiences with anyone, understandably. What's amazing is that he was still able to be the vibrant, caring, open person he is in spite of what he experienced during the war and the other hardships he endured during his life (he was one of 13 children, and his family was very poor; his father died when he was 15; luckily, his extended family largely lived within the neighborhood). He's just a fundamentally decent person, and I don't say that about many people. In many ways, he's like my father. My grandparents helped raise my sister and I when we were younger; we'd sleep over there almost every weekend until I was about 11, and we'd frequently visit besides.
My grandpa is the only male that I feel absolutely comfortable with physically -- I can hold his hand as we walk in public, or put my arm around him, or hug him or give him a kiss, and feel absolutely no shame in doing so. And he felt no shame in it either, which is what makes him who he is to me. I can rest my head on his stomach or shoulder as I sit next to him and hold him like a teddy bear, because he's always
been my teddy bear. Yeah, I know it sounds corny, but it kills me to know that I'm never going to be that close with another man again as long as I live. I can tease him about his satellite dish ears (droopy from age; I'd ask him if they get AM too
) or his sausage fingers (he used to be a butcher; his fingers are thick) and he'd just laugh and poke me. He's the most easygoing, affable man you'd ever want to meet. For someone whose father was busy working 100+ hour weeks until I was about 7 years old, he was more than a worthy replacement.
I'm honored to have him as a grandfather. He's been an inspiration to me on more levels than I can possibly convey. He's been a loving grandfather, mentor, and the best friend I could possibly have. He was a good father to my mother (who is like him in so many ways), and a dedicated, hardworking husband of 57 years to my grandmother. He worked til he was 80 years old; he always said that when you stop working, you die. He's always stood by me and loved me like the son he never had (he has two daughters). I'm sorry that this is somewhat rambling, but it's very hard for me to write this. I can honestly say that I have never met another person even remotely like him, and I likely never will. They just don't make people like him anymore.
I'm sorry for writing this much, and I really don't expect anything from this post. I just felt the need to let others know what a wonderful person he is. Hopefully his light doesn't go out anytime soon, because it will truly be a great loss for myself, my family, and the world. I'm already devastated knowing that even if he survives this stroke in the short-term, I likely won't see his smile or hear his laugh or humorous remarks anymore. Please keep him in your thoughts. This is incredibly hard for me. Here is a picture of my grandparents; he's 83 and she's 80 in this picture, which was taken about 4 years ago. I think you can tell what kind of person he is (what kind of people
they are, really) just from the picture, but maybe that's just me reading it in:
If you're religious, I ask that you please say a prayer for my grandfather; if you're not, please keep him in your thoughts anyway. I'm 28 years old, and I realize that I'm more fortunate than most to have my grandparents live this long. But I'm just not ready for this -- none of us in my family are. I love him as much as I do my own parents. I say in my prayers that I don't want to be selfish and keep him here for my own sake if he's going to suffer, because he deserves better. To see this vibrant, wonderful person ravaged by a stroke like this is just devastating. The innocence and purity that you see in children, well, somehow my grandfather was able to retain that for his entire life. That's really the best I can explain him. He's the greatest man I'll ever know. I can't say it enough, so I'll just stop now before I keep repeating myself.
I pray that I'll be able to see him smile again one day.
.
