Grief is one of the most common emotions in the world.  It’s also one of the worst emotions that you can experience.  Unfortunately, almost everyone, if not every human that has lived on Earth and felt that awful, sickening feeling called grief, experiences this at some point in their life.  And, every single person will lose someone special to them in their lifetime; it’s almost 100% unavoidable.  Not only that, they might feel grief for that person, a terrible sadness that will not go away.  I, unfortunately, have already experienced this moment in my life.  This is the time when I lost a family member.

It was like any other day that happened in our house.  It was late evening, we had just finished up dinner, and now we were loading up the washer with the dishes and delicate round plates.  After the clean-up of our evening meal, we suddenly got a call.  It was strange; no one usually called after 7:30 in the evening.  We figured it was just my grandmother calling to check upon us. My mom was quickly making her way to the phone as if she were going through an elaborate maze.  She looked at the blower and was shocked.  It was a call from St. Peter's Health Partners.  She answered, “Hello?”  After about five seconds, she gasped out loud, scaring me, and probably my sister and father too.

She kept talking for about another ominous 30 seconds and hung up with, “okay, thanks so much for calling.”  I immediately knew that something had gone wrong when she turned around with a sad and scared face.  I was anxious and frozen in fear, wondering what the dog and bone had told my mom.  At the time, my great-grandpa and great-grandma had been living in an assisted living facility called The Eddy.  The Eddy was made by St. Peter’s Health Partners; that’s why it was the caller’s I.D. on the phone.  My mom turned, and without hesitation, blurted out, “Great-Grandpa’s dying.” 

I didn’t know what to do, or what to say.  I was frozen in shock, stuck in fear, drowning in sorrow.  I don’t remember much after the news was announced.  I do remember saying goodbye to her and wishing her luck in her endeavor.  I hoped it would be fruitful.  I also remember my sister was sprinting towards her room, saddened by the harsh reality of our Great-Grandpa dying; the thought of it just made us want to cry.  I remember just sluggishly walking to my room, no questions on the outside.  But on the inside, a million questions were running through my head.  Will my Mom be okay driving?  Will she cry?  What will happen at The Eddy?  How is he now?  Is he already dead?  Will my Mom get to see him one last time before he’s dead?

I was propped on my very comfy mattress, a good book in hand.  I had trouble focusing though because too many questions were intruding my mind.  Also, my sister was bawling her eyes out in her private dwelling.  She was crying about how unfair this is because we had also lost my Uncle Marty in at least the past year too.  But my great-grandpa’s wasn’t something unexpected.  He was 101.  He had lived a long, fruitful, and eventful life.  He was in the military, and he even opened a dry cleaning store, Executive Cleaners, which is still a thriving business today in Stuyvesant Plaza.  After she left about an hour and a half, the garage door lifted, allowing my mom to park her car.  When I saw her, she had a sad gleam in her eye, but also a slight smile.

She said it was very nice; they helped my great-grandpa get dressed for bed, and he passed away in his sleep.  Honestly, that’s a pretty peaceful way to go out, and I couldn’t help but feel happy for him.  He had been in a lot of pain when we had gone to see him recently, and he always proclaimed everything hurt.  He couldn’t walk anymore the last couple of times we had seen him.  He had to be pushed along slowly in a wheelchair to every meal and event in The Eddy.

I still felt sad, a hollowness inside me that could never be filled.  I regretted my choice of staying home, and I wish I had gone with my mother to see him one last time while he was still alive and thriving.  And while he may be gone, his legacy lives on, in all of our family’s lives.  What I’m trying to say is if you are losing someone important to you, go see them one last time. Don’t do what I did; don’t stand there with lips quivering and legs falling.  It might be sad, but maybe seeing them that one last time will make you happy.  I still regret my decision not to go to this day and every day for the rest of my life.  So go.  See that close, loveable, important person that one last time.  It can be brutal or sad, but trust me, do it; do it for them, and do it for yourself.  Otherwise, you could end up regretting it in the long run.

 

 

 

 

-Finn W.