Every so often I will vividly recall a night that happened about eight years ago. This was the night that my Grandpa Thomas passed away. There were so many things that took place that weekend that were poignant, beautiful and heart-breaking. Perhaps that's why it's left such an imprint on me. So please bear with me while I put this memory to "paper"...
It was a Friday evening. I was still living at home, but had stayed out in St. Clair after work to hang out with my friend Angie. We went shopping and were hanging out at her apartment putting together picture gifts for our friends when my mom called. She was just letting me know that she and Dad were headed out to see Grandpa. He had been taken to the hospital that evening due to internal bleeding. Grandpa had been living with an aneurysm for a decade, and there was concern that it had finally ruptured. I paused and asked how serious things were. Mom seemed hesitant to answer, but then said that it was probably pretty serious. I asked if they would be willing to wait 20 minutes so I could come home and go to the hospital with them.
I have no idea how fast I drove, but I think I got back to Richmond in record time. Mom, Dad and I quickly got ourselves together and headed out the door. A coffee stop was desperately needed since the hour was late and my parents otherwise would have long since been in bed. I remember Dad and I going into a gas station and finding a mostly empty coffee pot that had probably been on for hours. Thank goodness for Starbucks bottled coffee :-)
Once we arrived at the hospital, we were escorted to the ER where my grandparents, aunts, uncles and some of my cousins were gathered. Grandpa was in a bed, his eyes closed and breathing labored. Grandma sat beside his bed in a wheelchair. This is one of those moments that I will never forget: she was holding his hand, bent over in prayer and kept repeating "God is good." (Lord, may I have that faith!) My mom took up post on the other side of the bed - holding Grandpa's hand, stroking his forehead and talking to him gently.
The next moment was one that I'm so glad I got to have. Mom gave me Grandpa's hand to hold. I was at a complete loss for anything to say, so I just stood there quietly. After a few minutes my Grandpa opened his eyes. He smiled at me and said my name. That was the last time he spoke to me, and I will treasure that moment forever.
The ER staff was so kind to our family. They allowed the entire crew to stay with my Grandpa instead of the usual two at a time. They brought in trays of coffee and orange juice. They understood that these could very well be the final moments with my Grandpa and treated that time with great respect.
I don't recall how long we had been there when a surgeon came over to talk with us. He explained that Grandpa's aneurysm had in fact ruptured and the only chance for repair was surgery. We were told that the survival rate was 30% given all the factors involved. I believe my Grandpa's words were that he had to "at least give it a shot."
Some of us said our farewells at that point and went to the ER waiting room while Grandpa was prepped for surgery. After a while we were taken to the main waiting area in the hospital so we could keep vigil. I don't remember everything that took place during those hours, but I do remember uncomfortable chairs, a run for snacks and drinks, and sitting with my Uncle Lee while we talked about how the Lord was at work around us. It was a great moment of ministry on such a tough night!
It was hours before the surgeon came back downstairs and gathered us into a smaller room. He began explaining what had happened in detail. This was around 5:00 am, and we had been up all night. I had a hard time following the doctor's explanation. For a minute, I truly was unsure if he was saying that the surgery had been successful or not. Ultimately, the surgery had been successful in stopping the bleeding, but the whole ordeal had been too much for Grandpa to overcome. He was still technically alive due to a ventilator and pacemaker. We were going to taken upstairs to say our last good-byes.
Deep breaths and silence as we headed to the elevators. As we waited, another set of elevator doors opened with some surgical staff getting out. I locked eyes with a familiar face. I had worked with Julia a few years back. She asked what I was doing there, but I think she already knew. She had been part of Grandpa's surgical team. I told her, and she hugged me tightly and cried with me. It was a difficult moment before going upstairs, but such a comfort too.
One-by-one, we each went up to Grandpa's bed and said good-bye. It was surreal walking out of the hospital just a few minutes later. Was it really over? Was he really gone? It was hard to accept as being real at that moment.
Those who had the energy were going to gather at my Grandma's house. We stopped at Dunkin' Donuts on the way over to get breakfast for everyone. I don't think anyone really wanted to eat, but it gave us something to do while we sat around the dining room table. Grandma looked so stoic for a while, but eventually the tears came bursting through. She missed him so much.
After a while, everyone needed some sleep. So we headed back to Richmond. I called my sisters to give them the news.
I think we all stumbled into our respective beds once we got home. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to take a shower. That's when the major tears came. The nice thing about crying in the shower is that your breakdown is hardly noticeable when you're done. With all that emotional energy spent, I was able to fall asleep for several hours.
When I woke up, I called my friend Amy to let her know what was going on. She had lost her "Pa" just a few days earlier as well. She invited me to come hang out her, her mom and grandma at her grandma's home. Having all just experienced a big loss, it was cathartic to sit around a table with these ladies talking, laughing and grieving.
There were more "moments" in the days that followed throughout the viewing and funeral. I was surrounded often by my church family. Their support was unbelievable. Lots of crazy "Thomas" moments - the type that involved hysterical laughter and insanity. You know, the kind that you can just never fully explain to non-family members. :-)
Coming back to the present, I had the opportunity to see an old video of my Grandpa a few weeks ago. It was nice to see his face, but even better to hear his voice. I miss his voice. I miss seeing him in his favorite green recliner. I miss the anticipation of Grandma and Grandpa coming over for Thanksgiving. I miss the way he made his speciality drink - instant iced tea. I even miss how he would give my Grandma a hard time just to get a rise out of her (which he almost always did!).
I'm also grateful that the Lord promises that this is not the end for those who believe in Him (Jesus Christ). Those whose faith is in Jesus have the gift and promise of eternal life in heaven. So we do not have to mourn as the world mourns. I'll get to see my Grandpa again - and it will be even better than now!
For those of you still reading this, thanks for the opportunity to let me share my heart... :-)
So while I'm panicking internally, Matthew all of the sudden stands up and walks over in front of me. Before I can even process that, he's down on one knee with a ring in his hand.