Dear Diary, Things went down hill so fast

It was just Thursday that the old boy was transferred to the Hospice and today, I'm waiting for him to die.

Yesterday, I went there after my in-laws picked up the kids for the weekend, and brought a bunch of stuff from his house to make him feel more at home. When I walked in, his son and cousin were sitting there (it's a long story) so I made myself busy putting up the painting of my grandma and a few other pictures he really enjoyed.

That's when his son told me how bad things were.

My granfather had been delirious all day. He was talking to people who had died and trying to fight someone. At one point, he was talking like he was back in the army.

People do strange things when they're about to die and I guess my grandfather is no different.

He looked at me briefly but wasn't sure who I was. I knew then, that he was gone. The grandpa I knew, wasn't coming back.

He's been unconscious since then. I've sat and held his hand, telling him that he needs to go now.

"There's nothing else for you to do now," I said. "Grandma's waiting for you. You have lots of people who are waiting so you won't be alone, I promise. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. You've done so much for me and I want to thank you. So just be at peace and know that granma will be happy to see you."

It wasn't as tough as I thought it would be to say goodbye. Maybe it's because he's still hanging on, I don't know. The doctor expected him to go last night but when I got back to the Hospice at 6 am, he was still fighting.

I expected nothing less.

I sat with him most of the time, holding his hand and chatting about ridiculous things. At one point, the doctor came in and when I tried to move my hand, he wouldn't let it go. I smiled, and knew that he knew I was there.

It's been such a long, weary couple of months but I honestly didn't expect to walk into the Hospice yesterday and not be able to talk to him. I guess a part of me always thought he was still invincible. Maybe a part of me wanted to believe, for just one moment, that I would have some profound last conversation with him.

Guess not.

I believe I will just reflect on the time I had with him and appreciate it for what it was. No one can take those memories from me and no one can claim them as their own. For a while, we lived in our own little bubble, his was filled with denial and mine was filled with love.

Either way, he's on his way to see my grandma this weekend. I hope he remembers to tell her I said, "Hi," for me when he sees her.

t.