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How would you feel if you knew your grandma was going to *go away*?
How would you feel if you knew your grandma was going to *go away*? –
My grandma is 82 years old, and for a while now she's been really sick. She's been such a wonderful person: Always goto church every sunday, never wished bad upon anyone, never has really cursed, etc. Basically, what more people should be like, and the world would be a lot better.
Theres no way she's going to last much longer, asks for the lord to just take her, doesn't feel like eating, etc. It's just so sadening.
I doubt she'll even last 2 more weeks...The other day I went down there and she was laying on the couch...I thought for sure she was dead. In some ways I wish that she would just die so she doesn't have to feel anymore pain, but it's really sad that she's gotta go. Guess it's for the best though (getting out of this pathetic world is for the best), but still it's obvious what i'll feel like when it finally does happen.
Wondering if anybody been in almost the same situation and how they took it?
Yea, that is very sad, but not much you can do. We don't put her in a home because we know she isn't going to last much longer, and at least we'll give her the peace in dieing in her own home around her family. Very sad to even say that, but it's the truth. Nobody wants to spend there last days in a hospital.
The way I see it - is if they have got to the stage that they are no longer the person you grew up with and knew - then it is sometimes better.
I recently (only about 4 to 6 months ago) lost my Grandpa and helped shift my Grandma into a smaller room in the nursing home - during which she said to me "Don't worry it wont be long now"....
I thought to myself at the time - WTF... don't say that... but sure enough less than a month later she joined grandpa....
I was sad (very sad) - but with grandperants of that age - it is some times better to remember them how they used to be than to watch them drag themselves through life in useless dried up bodies with minds that are slowly slipping away...
One of my worst memories as a kid was of mum making me kiss good by my great grandma before she went home... she had completely lost it - gone off with the fairies - had sores all around her mouth and would only grunt and mumble - not a single word was understandable... scared the hell out of me - in a selfish sort of way I was happy when her suffering came to an end - I think when we get to the point where the quality of our lives is so low it is some times better to let go.
It is much harder loosing say an uncle who was in his prime to an accident than the barely recognisable shadows of their former selves - grandperants, sad but true..
82 years is still pretty good though. My grandparents went in their early 70's.
We all have to do it some time ya know. We will be dieing on the couch too some time, or in a huge blast who knows.
I lost my grandfather , wow, almost 8 years ago now, hes the best man ive ever known, i miss him alot, but hes definately in a better place. What really hurt is the last time I spoke to him, the night before his stroke, I had an arguement with him, a petty arguement about the back of the tv remote. I was so scared that he would die before i got to tell him that i love him. I got to go to the hospital and tell him, he wasnt able to respond, but he uttered i love you back. He had the most affect on who I am today, miss him . My grandma is almost 89, I dont think shell ever die, shes been dieing for 25 years., strange cuz my grandfather was strong as a horse, yet my grandma is a frail frail woman. Us men have to die so much sooner!
An old guy on Tv said this, when asked how it feels to be old. "Its not too good to be old, but when you look at the alternitive, its not all too bad".
Last edited by necrolop; 03-19-2004 at 02:26 AM.
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I don't post here too often, but lately, there have been topics that I can relate to, so here goes...
Almost a year ago, my Grampa passed away from leukaemia. He was always able to do everything he wanted to, I always used to hang around with him in the garage and helped him build stuff. He fought in World War II and was proud of America, even though the people here sometimes treated him wrong (we're of Mexican descent, and back then, times were different). My Grampa was also quite the comedian, there was nothing he couldn't turn into a joke. My Gramma says that I take after him, but I can't even compare.
Anyways, Christmas of 2002 came around and we were celebrating. My Grampa had a cold, which was odd because he rarely got sick. The cold continued on through the first couple of weeks in January, so we took him to the hospital. The doctors said "Oh, you'll be fine, it's just a cold." and they sent him home.
Febraury 2003 came around and he was still sick. It was time for my Gramma's check-up at Northwestern Memorial Hospital (one of the top hospitals in the nation, if I'm not mistaken), so my Grampa took her there. My Gramma's doctor saw that my Grampa didn't look like his normal self and checked him out, too. They did tests and found bad stuff. They decided to keep him for further testing and within a couple of days, they concluded that he had cancer of the blood.
We didn't have the heart to tell him what he had, we didn't want to worry him. Instead, everyone took turns staying with him at the hospital. The doctors gave him treatments and everything imaginable, but nothing was helping. I watched and ached as my Grampa changed from a size 34 to skin and bones. There is nothing in the world that hurts more than watching someone you love go.
He stayed in the hospital until about the middle of March 2003 and when the doctors said that he couldn't get any better, they let him go home. At his house, he lived in a hospital bed with an oxygen machine.
I'd go there to talk with him about normal things as if nothing was going to happen to him. We would talk about my job and how he wished he would get better already so that he could fix the bathroom sink. He also told me how all he wanted to do was be able to go to the kitchen to have some coffee and sweet bread. He at least got the chance to have coffee in the kitchen with his wife a day or two after he said that.
One day, it must have been in May, he had a seizure and I froze and must have had some kind of nervous breakdown because I can't remember anything during the time it happened. The only thing I can really remember is seeing my eyes tear up and hearing lots of family running around. It just got worse from there on.
A week later, he wasn't even able to speak. The last time I remember I was with him while he was alive, he just held onto my hand as he slept.
On May 30, 2003, I remember it being a Friday, the nurse came to the house to do a check-up. I remember looking into the bedroom and reading her lips as she spoke to my mom, both of them in tears... "I'm sorry, but he's not going to make it through the weekend."
I broke down again, but tried to hide it from everyone by going to the washroom. I stayed there until about 11pm before I had to come home to bring myself back.
The next day, I visited him again, but couldn't stay long. I couldn't get anyone to cover for me at my job and my boss had to take care of business that day, so I had to work. My boss was very understanding and told me to do what I have to do.
I worked and worked; everytime the phone rang, I died. It was 8:47pm and I had received a call from my stepfather saying that he would pick me up from work so that I could go to my Grampa's house. Not even five minutes later, I called my house to tell my stepfather to come and get me and the phone was busy. I finally got through and the news was passed on to me. My Grampa had stopped suffering. I wanted to kill myself. I burst into tears in the office and decided that I was closing shop. Without warning, I shut off all of the games (I was working at an arcade at the time). Amazingly, there were no complaints; there was never a time when I shut off the games that someone didn't yell at me, even though I would give warning.
I cried as I walked through the mall and people seemed to know what had happened. Employees at the mall that I rarely even talked to patted me on the back and said things like "I'm sorry Rob, I know how you feel..."
The ride to my Grampa's house was an eternity. When we got to his house, many people were there. I ignored everyone and went to see my Grampa. I can't even explain how it feels to see him on the bed, but without breath. I'm actually crying right now, the memory is so vivid.
One thing my Grampa said to me was that he wanted me to go to school. There was never a reason for me not to go to college, I just decided not to go. I'm currently attending school now.
Before my Grampa passed away, I used to go to church every Sunday. Now, church only reminds me of the day I was my Grampa's paul bearer, so I don't go. It's not that I lost my faith, it's that I can't bear to remember my Grampa in the pain he was in. I also find it hard to visit my Gramma because their house is rich with family. I wish I could visit my Gramma as often as I used to, but it always hurts to go there and not see my Grampa watching Wheel of Fortune on his Zenith Stereo TV.
My Grampa was the heart of this family, and after he passed, well, I see us as broken up. Sunday isn't Sunday anymore because no one meets at their house anymore. My uncle (Grampa's brother) moved to Texas (where they're from) and everyone pretty much became distant. I still have a hard time enjoying anything and it's been nearly a year.
Life is so short and we spend it working at jobs rather than doing the things we enjoy with the people we love. We have to realize that someday, our time will be up and everything that we wanted to do, but couldn't, will not get done. My stepfather fixed the sink...
Anyways, take every moment you have with your Grandma and treat it as if it's your last... at any moment, it quite well could be.
Last edited by TheGiver; 03-19-2004 at 03:14 AM.
I live in the UK but I have family in the US... Last year my uncle in the states got really sick... He had been sick and unable to move for months before he told anyone... The neighbours had dropped by to see him and they found him in that condition... We eventually found out he had a tumor and other cancers all around his body... After hearing the news we flew over in the time that was coincedently in a school break... When we went to see him he was unsure who we were at first because of the drugs which was very upsetting on top of the situation... Eventually we got to talk to him.. We spent the following two days with him.. On the third day my dad and I were meant to fly home while my mother stayed their with my uncle... The hardest part was we knew that he was going to pass away soon and the most upsetting part about it was having to say goodbye to someone that you know you'll never ever see again... About a week after arriving back in the Uk we got a call from my mother saying he was doing well and he was now at my cousin's house and was fine... About 20 minutes later she phoned back and informed us he had died...
Now this time's hard for you Primenal I know that, but whatever you do, don't listen to the people who say that it's better to have been able to say goodbye when it is really one of the worst experiences... However, when the time does come it doesnt hit you as hard you won't be as upset as you would be if it was sudden... One thing you may be comforted by also is that she has lived a long and full life while people like my uncle died young... 55
This may not be a useful or particularly helpful post but I thought that i'd let you know that I know what you're going through man... It's not a pleasent experience and wanting them to make it through their pain is natural and you shouldn't feel guilty.
I hope that you can cope with this time well and I hope that you feel better soon...
Funny how 55 is young to our standards. In 1900 the life expectancy of an american was 45 years. now its 80, 84 for women.
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My grandmother died from my mother's side a few years ago, though that was in Egypt and I couldn't do much about it.. nor did I know her at all..
But anyway, my grandfather from my father's side died before I was born...
I can't really say much about these things because... there really is nothing to say.
The_1: Proof read your post, I think I have spotted a grammatical error.