Cloudy

Understand my Grief

It wasn't until the last time I saw you slumped in your chair, sick, did I notice how fast time goes by. It was still you but a sick version of the same 'you.' I didn't think you would be sick for longer than a couple days - a week at the absolute maximum.

You told me to keep my distance so I wouldn't get sick too. But, when it came time for me to go home, I made sure to hug you goodbye. I am glad I did.

The next time I saw you, I skipped school. You weren't in your chair. Instead, propped up on  on a hospital bed. Cords, buttons and little lights were scattered everywhere on and around you. It was hard top digest. I sat on the side of the bed and held your hand - You saw I was upset, squeezed my hand a little and said "I'll be okay, don't cry. You were always my number one."  

After that, you weren't you anymore. Your body was there but you, yourself were not. Your pupils dilated and you on so many pain medications. It was in that moment, I knew you were not coming back, but I tried my hardest to deny it.

I was right, by 2am June 4, there was no more you. I wasn't told until midday after getting frustrated and confused. Mum woke me up around 8am. I couldn't wait to get to the hospital. Instead, mum stopped at the florist for flowers. I thought 'okay, flowers for grandad, now lets take these to him.' They weren't for grandad, they were for nana, I thought we were going to pick her up and take her with us to see grandad. But we didn't, instead, we sat in nana and grandads living room for what felt like hours, until mum told me you had passed away. I hadn't known and all I wanted to do that morning was see you one last time. But you had already left. I carried the bitterness of not knowing for many years of my life. While now at 23 I Understand the heaviness of the topic I still don't understand why I wasn't told sooner.

Once, it had been spelt out - you had passed, it was surreal, because I had only just seen you the day before. It sunk in like a massive weight was dragging me into the deepest parts of the ocean.

  The hardest and most hard-hitting thing to accept was, you, my grandad are not coming back.