Death and Dying

I know.  You are probably thinking, “Melissa, can’t you talk about something happy?”  I put that as my title, and no one will want to read this post.  But it is what I am dealing with right now.  And I’m sure we all can relate in some way or another.

While I’m typing this, I can hear my grandpa breathing.  Some of you may take that for granted; I know I did at one time.  My grandma has a baby monitor hooked up in his room so that we can hear if he needs something.  Mostly, we just hear him breathing.  His breathing is very labored, so it is quite noisy.  I don’t mind.  I could sit and listen to him breathing all day.  At least I know he is still with me.

This has been the worst trip to their house so far.  We were told he had less than six months, but I don’t think it will be even that long.  His days are pretty painful for him.  They are long, and he is in a lot of pain.  He cannot get out and do much like he used to.  Being up and about causes him more pain and wears him out very easily.  It is the most horrific thing to watch someone you love slowly fade away.  I have never done this before, and I don’t want to do it ever again.

Last year, when my nephew Corey died, it was so sudden.  It was a shock and happened so quickly that I didn’t have time to think.  We were faced with his death and dealt with it as best we could.  I still suffer from the thoughts of “Did this really happen?  Was it all just some terrible nightmare that I have yet to awaken from?”  But for the most part, I have accepted it and tried to continue to function in life.

This, I don’t want to deal with.  I don’t want to go through this.  I want to stomp my foot and say, “No, this will not happen.”  I’m not ready to give my grandpa up.  I guess I think since it hasn’t happened yet, then I can stop it somehow.  If I can just pray hard enough or take better care of him, then he will stay with me forever.  I hate watching him die.  I wish there was something I could do.

I often stand in there and just watch him sleep.  It breaks my heart though because it is such a struggle for him to just breathe.  Something I take for granted everyday.  Breathing.

I want to rewind time.  I want to return to the days when he was able to do whatever he wanted to do.  I want to go back to the days when I would walk in the door, and he would be standing there to greet me saying, “There’s my Bear.”  That’s what he has always called me.  Bear.  I think it must be because I always gave him Bear Hugs.  I love hugging my grandpa.  I always have.  I can’t stand the thought that one day will come, soon, when I no longer can.

I pray daily for strength.  I don’t know how I will get through this.  Please pray for our family.  I don’t want my grandpa to suffer anymore, but I am not ready to say “goodbye.”

March 21st

Tomorrow is March 21st.

This used to be a day I celebrated.

20 years ago tomorrow, I became an aunt for the first time.  I was only 8.  I was so excited!!  I was the only person I knew at my school who was an aunt or uncle.  I took pictures to school.  I bragged to everyone I knew, probably even some I didn’t.  I couldn’t believe how excited I was to have a nephew!

And they kept coming.  lol  I am currently an aunt of 9.

Being an aunt is my 2nd favorite job; 2nd only to being a mom.  I have loved being an aunt ever since the first born came along.  I remember always wanting to be around them.  When I was around them, I was begging to hold them, play with them, feed them.  Heck, I even changed diapers if it meant I could be with them.  I still remember waking my niece up from her nap because someone told me babies usually cling to the first person they see when they wake up.  So, naturally, to a kid, waking them seemed like a good idea. :]

Since Corey was born 20 years ago, I have stayed active in their lives as much as possible.  You don’t meet me without hearing about my son and my nephews and nieces.  They make me who I am today.

Every year, I celebrate their birthday in some way.  Either with them, on Facebook, or in spirit (I only live near a few of them.)

March 21st is Corey’s birthday.

This year, instead of celebrating, I am mourning.  It is a birthday I will never be able to celebrate again.

This is the first year Corey will not hear a “Happy Birthday” from me.  He will not log onto Facebook and see my birthday post.

I know he is celebrating his 20th birthday in Heaven with Jesus.  But it’s not fair.  I want to celebrate with him, too.