One More Writer

My Grandpa died Thursday, April 13, in Tucson, Arizona, at Casa de la Luz, a local hospice. He was well into his 80s.

Lung cancer got him. But I think he was ready to go ever since grandma died six years earlier.

I flew out to Tucson two Thursdays ago, to spend some time with my dad and see Grandpa before he died. Dad and I went out to the hospice on Friday. Grandpa was in pretty bad shape. He'd lost a lot of weight, he looked frail and couldn't sit upright for more than a few minutes. He was also grumpy (I get my temper from him,) but happy to see me. Friday Dad and I went for a hike. Afterward, we picked up a Bud Lite at a 7-Eleven and smuggled it in.

You know how time seemed to crawl when you were growing up? I imagine life as this giant train ride, slow to accelerate, it gets going, and then time slows down again as you reach your final stop. That's how things seemed for Grandpa. He'd been in the hospice for two days when I saw him, and he was convinced he'd been for weeks, or even months.

Anyway, Dad and I bring the beer in for grandpa, and he's crabby because he asked one of his nurses for a bowl of chili 15 minutes earlier - or three days earlier, in Grandpa time. The hospice didn't have any, so they sent out someone to buy a can of chili for him. Twenty minutes into our visit, they came back with the chili, and Dad and I helped Grandpa sit up and eat the chili and drink the beer in a paper cup.

Grandpa's always been a joker, and he was at it in force, asking if we could just get him drunk (he used to drink a lot each day. This day, he got half a beer.) I told him about law school and he made some lawyer jokes as I wiped chili off his chin.

Grandpa isn't - wasn't - real big on physical affection. One hug per visit was the allotment. But that day, as we talked, I held his hand. He seemed to crave the contact. After a dozen bites of chili, he was done with his meal, and too tired to sit up any longer. We lowered him back into his bed and I said goodbye. I hugged him, and told him I loved him. I said "I love you too."

The hospice staff reckons this was Grandpa's last meal. I'm just glad I got to see him before he went.