Friday, December 28, 2012


My Grandfather had withered away to something like 70 pounds when I went to say goodbye to him in hospice care. I kind of denied that I was even looking at him, until I saw his big strong hands, which remained the same. When I had said goodbye to him, all of my cousins, my Aunts and my Grandmother had already done the same, so part of me wondered if he was waiting for me to drive home from school. So I told him, before I left that it was okay to go. Days went by and he still hadn't gone. Everyone kept telling him it was okay and that everything would be okay, but he refused. 

At that time, my father would come in to secretly see him after hours. Even after he and my Mom divorced, he kept a relationship with both my Grandparents. Helping them around the house, shopping for them when they needed stuff. Both my Aunts and my Mother hated it.  One afternoon, after spending all day with him my aunts had taken my Grandmother to church, my Mom had gone home, I was at a friend's. When my Dad was sure no one was there, he went into the hospice room.  He said "Don't worry Charlie, I'll take care of Perry."  He was gone ten minutes later.

Point Pleasant, NJ

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