Grandad is dying. I've felt it for a few months, but there wasn't really any signs of it until this last week. His blood pressure dropped really low and he didn't have much oxygen in his blood. They (the nursing home) called the ambulance to take him to the hospital. On the way there, the attendants talked to him and roused him enough that by the time they got to the hospital his blood pressure and oxygen were normal.
They (the nursing home) called Grandma yesterday and told her he hasn't been eating or drinking and they couldn't rouse him. Grandma went out and I don't know how the decision was made or if there really wasn't even a decision to make, but Grandad is now in hospice care. I guess this involves hospice people coming to the nursing home and taking care of him. Basically, they take care of a person during their last days.
I knew when they couldn't rouse him that he's been straddling the fence between heaven and here and it would only be a matter of time before he's more in heaven than here. I've been grieving him for months. It's not that I don't want my Grandad here, I do. I just don't want him to suffer anymore. His quality of life wasn't good (losing your mind never is) and I know he wouldn't want to be like that. He's ready to go. Once again, God has been so gracious to us. He's given us time to adjust, to prepare, yet his graciousness extends to Grandad, too, in that he isn't going to make him wait for years wasting away to go home. His time is near. How gracious.
I grieve for our loss, but I'm so happy for him to finally be able to shed his wasted body and mind. So we wait, not for death, but for Grandad to be made whole again and be waiting for us on the other side.