Word of caution: This post is gonna be a really, really long one.
Grandpa left us peacefully in his sleep on Sunday, 18th of May, 2014 at 4:51pm due to kidney failure. He was 78.
Now I wouldn't say that I was close with the man, but he WAS my grandfather after all so forgive me if I get a tad emotional. One thing though, I am not good with handling my emotions, nor in processing them. I've never been able to successfully convey my feelings outright, which is why I am writing this post - as an outlet for me to express my feelings and thoughts.
I AM sad that grandpa's passed, but more than that, I pitied him during his last moments.
He was a great man, but old age coupled with inactivity made him forgetful and slow. I think it was dementia but he would constantly do things that irritated grandma and those around him.
He would pour water into cups, line them up and not drink them and would constantly ask what date it was. I think he'd regressed into the mind of a child due to the dementia, but everyone put up with it because he was the patriarch of the family. He brought my dad and uncles up and gave them all that he had, which wasn't a small amount.
Grandpa after retiring, mostly spent his time at home and at the nearby coffee shop, talking to friends. He would walk the short 10 minute distance there everyday, without fail for his daily coffee. This was a few years back, but eventually his legs started to get weaker and so he stopped going out altogether.
Spending so much time at home with nothing to do besides watching tv all day really has a drastic effect on your mind. And he was no different, he became more forgetful, always asking the aforementioned question: "What date is it today?"
This started around 3 years ago, if I'm not mistaken, when I had just gone to Penang to start my degree. Imagine my surprise when I came back and saw that grandpa wasn't the same as the grandpa I had talked to a few month prior.
It was in this state that he took a few tumbles in the bathroom on different occasions, one of which caused a fracture in his leg that required surgery and a screw inserted.
We didn't even knew he had a fracture until years later, when he got admitted for yet again falling down. The doctors found the fracture and a date was set.
The first time I visited him in the hospital, my heart literally sank. I really pitied the man. His arms were restrained to the bed by the nurses because he would constantly pull the iv out of his hand. The nurses really didn't have a choice but to do that.
He spent a month in the hospital like that before getting the surgery. During that time, he'd lament that he "couldn't die even if he wanted to." but I think it was because he was frustrated he couldn't move or go home.
We'd always visit him but couldn't stay with him through the night because of work or other commitments and that is my one regret - not spending enough time with him.
The surgery went well and he was soon discharged, but he was bed-ridden until the day he couldn't wake up.
It was a Friday morning, 16th May 2014 that grandma tried to wake grandpa up, to no avail so once again he was admitted into the hospital. He spent 2 days without waking up, which according to the doctors was due to low blood sugar levels. And on Sunday morning, he finally opened his eyes for the first time in days; as if to see his family once more before finally leaving.
The hospital called my uncle later in the evening to tell him the news of his passing. No one was around when he passed, that made me regret - that there wasn't anyone to accompany him as he took his last breath.
That got me thinking (which is never a good thing), of all the what-ifs and nevers with grandpa:
I will never see my grandfather again.
I will never talk to my grandfather ever again.
Nor will I ever be able to touch and feel my grandfather again.
When it comes down to it, reality has just sunk in for me - that grandpa will never come back and I won't see him ever again.
