Grieving Really Stinks

I started this post entitled "Honoring Granddaddy" because I have had every intention of writing his eulogy before he dies so I can read it to him in these last hours, but since I started writing... and realizing how incredibly self-centered I am... I realized how much I needed an opportunity to vent and pour out my heart. I need a chance to openly convey my grief and pain to an anonymous audience (at this moment.. I'm really thankful I don't have "followers" on this blog so I can more or less journal my ramblings for myself).

WARNING: This will probably NOT be a happy post, but I think it's time that I deal with some of these crazy emotions before I shatter. So instead of falling apart like an empty eggshell bashed by a hammer that breaks into tiny, useless pieces, I am attempting to purposefully crack this egg (my heart) and let the goop come out to become something healthy-- I want to make some scrambled eggs or something like that.

This week has easily been the most emotionally difficult week of my life. On Friday, I was working from home when I got a call from my mom who was very worried about Granddaddy. He had collapsed in the bathroom, and we needed to help him get up. I went over ASAP, but I actually followed an ambulance in. He was in worse shape than my mom had thought over the phone, and she'd called 911 when she arrived. The ambulance transported Granddaddy to Marshal Medical North. I am sure they do many things well at this local hospital, and I'm grateful for their service to our community. However, I have not had very good experiences there. Poppa died there, my mom almost died there... it's a scary place for me. But Huntsville was under a tornado warning, and we thought that the ambulance had to take him to the nearest hospital... so we stuck it out in Guntersville/Arab ER. A 1/4 bag of fluids, a chest xray (that could not have been properly reviewed) and a A LONG day of essentially zero help, Granddaddy was released. We beat the weather home, and I thought he was on the upswing. Saturday night, mom called again. She and Dad had gone over to help Granddaddy get off the toilet. He was too weak and sick to get up on his own. Sunday after church, I went to Granddaddy's like I have every Sunday while I have lived in Albertville. When I arrived, I called my sister immediately and told her they better make great time from Pensacola to Albertville or she would not have a chance to see my Granddaddy alive again. We brought him to the ER in Huntsville, and he was admitted. He has pneumonia, thrush, esophagitis. He has such difficulty swallowing (could be side effect of chemo, cancer or a stricture-- they aren't sure) that he has been aspirating a lot of stuff into his lungs. Now, he is NPO, and it is so tough to watch him starve and be thirsty.

Granddaddy was diagnosed with lung cancer in September 2011, and he has been fighting with all his strength against the cancer, the malnutrition, the chemo and physically, mentally and emotionally-challenging combination of all of these things since. My granddaddy is the strongest, bravest, most courageous man alive. He is my hero. This week, I have learned that watching your superman wasting away for months and then slowly suffering with very little hope of survival is one of the biggest challenges my faith has ever seen-- I wouldn't wish this on anyone. But as a silver lining, I am indescribably grateful to have this time with him. I have lived with the regret of things left unsaid with my Poppa. Not that I've ever hidden my emotions, it's not as if I even really struggled expressing my love and gratitude to Poppa, but I had MUCH more on my heart and in my head than what I told him. I WAS NOT THERE when it mattered. I did not visit him in the hospital, and I should have. I learned a very tough lesson-- people cannot tell when you think about them... only when you take action about them. They can't tell how much you love and appreciate them, unless you say the words, send them a card, visit them or DO something.

As I sit in his hospital room for the 2nd night shift in a row (low on sleep, food, emotional fortitude)after hearing (about 20 hours ago) our always and sometimes overly optimistic oncologist say that Granddaddy will likely be with us only another 24-48 hours... I am praising God for the life that this incredible man has led. I am beyond thankful to have the opportunity to spend these last days by his side and tell him how much he means to me. I am able to come to terms with a reality in which my granddaddy is no longer with me. I have literally dreaded this day (or tomorrow or whatever day the Lord finally decides to call Granddaddy home) as long as I can remember. See, my Granddaddy has had several "scares" over the years. So many to the point that every time the phone rings after around 10 p.m., I freak out thinking that something has happened to Granddaddy, but he is a survivor. He has ALWAYS survived despite all odds. Until I experienced the loss of a close family member last February with Poppa, I believed that my granddaddy would be the first to go. And until I learned through that loss how to handle grief, I truly believed I could not survive the loss of my Granddaddy and selfishly prayed that he would live forever! The past few months-- culminating in the past few days specifically-- have been almost unbearable to watch. My once vivacious Granddaddy has diminished from a strong 6'1 heavy frame, to diminished 5'8 or so 120 lb. skin and bone. His eyes that once sparkled with life, love and hope now only dully beg for mercy from Our Creator to take him away from this pain.

I have learned that I go into a really weird production mode when I am grieving for someone I love probably (at least in prideful part) to avoid the "ugly cry" in front of my friends and family. I try to take charge of the stressful/grieving situation probably because I am deflecting the complete loss of control I feel by over-controlling some smaller or more insignificant detail in my life. In this case, I showed off my inner control-freak by keeping a detailed record of the timing of the medications/treatments my granddaddy has been receiving and/or constantly re-organizing and cleaning the living space here at our happy home-away-from-home, the "Huntsville Hospital Hilton Presidential Suite" AKA MST1757. I am trying to figure out why I do this..I think I feel like I have to be strong and be happy no matter what happens because I'm such an emotional person, and I understand that people are influenced by others' emotions. If I'm happy-- I can make others happy. If I'm a basketcase, I will make others a basketcase. I also feel like I have to show that I never waiver in my faith of my Sovereign Savior...It is God's will, and I know it's for the best. I WANT to be as strong as I act, and it's only through God's grace I can do it! But it's almost a "fake it til you make it" moment. I have to act as if I NEVER question His will, which honestly is a bold-faced lie. Who doesn't question God's sovereignty in the face of suffering?! Not I, although I usually try not to admit it-- at least out loud!

Another thing I have learned through all of this mess... How much God must love us. His love is perfect and so amazing. I cannot comprehend it fully with my tiny human mind, but this suffering (or watching Granddaddy suffer, which is suffering to some degree) has allowed me to get to know my God a little better, I think, and I'm trying so hard to be grateful for that. God-- divinely sovereign, in charge of ALL things in this life (very unlike my silly attempt in the control-freak nature I have!)-- willingly gave His one and only perfect, sinless Son to SUFFER and die. Granddaddy cannot have food or drink by mouth and he is struggling to breathe. It is hard to watch someone you love dehydrate, starve and suffocate. But God, with every ability to change it, ALLOWED His SON to suffer these 3 things and then some for a sinful race... for me. So we could have everlasting life united with our Savior. Glory to God. By His grace alone, we will see Granddaddy again one day. By His grace alone, we will get through this suffering and this loss. By His grace alone...