((Warning on harsh language farther in. I know cussing is distinctly 'unprofessional' and loses its meaning after a while, but... sometimes there's just no other way...))
Bluntly, I'm not really expecting anyone to read this, I have absolutely no clue why I'm posting, and frankly the only reason I'm still awake instead of in the nice cozy oblivion called "escapism sleeping" (or mindlessly playing my current video game obsession) is that my roommate is blasting rap music at about thirty volume levels above permitted limits for the Study Floor I'm currently on.
My only living grandfather is going to die.
No biggie, ne? Everyone dies. We've seen this coming for years as the doctors routinely fucked him over by incorrectly diagnosing him no matter what the hell my grandmother said, bitched, ranted, raved, and otherwise bluntly told them that he's not an Abyss-cursed diabetic! They sent him into a coma about three years back because they so royally screwed his blood over with a combination of insulin, blood thinner, and random combinations of drugs that shouldn't be put together but were because they fucked up his charts with another patient's!! He was legally dead for about two full minutes during that issue, when the only reason he was in the hospital to begin with was for a routine checkup on his dialasis because he had a relatively livable condition called failed kidneys that had failed over five years ago!
My only grandfather is going to die.
It only went downhill from there, of course. In a move almost everyone in my family thinks was a badly disguised attempt at appologizing, he got an implant/donor kidney, taking him off the machines but putting him on some incredibly high number of drugs.
I'm sick of doctors and proscribing drugs. I'm sick of hearing how he keeps going back to the hospital because of those drugs. I'm sick of how none of them listen to my grandmother and keep thinking he's a diabetic and giving him insulin when he doesn't need it! I'm sick of hearing how he's fading, how he's on two drugs that shouldn't be combined because they end up reacting like a bad LSD trip. I'm sick of hearing that he's fallen again, is back in the hospital again, doesn't recognize anyone until they get the drugs straightened out again. I'm sick of hearing that he does nothing but sit in his chair in front of the TV and sleep, or poke at buttons on the remote, or tries to stand and maybe falls, or maybe doesn't, and so wanders out of the house and almost gives my grandmother a heart attack because he just leaves without saying anything and no one knows where he headed or whether he even remembers where he is.
My grandfather is going to die.
He's been in and out of the hospital about every two days lately, always for something different. At the most, we doubt he'll last another two months... some of us are even wondering if he'll last the week.
My only grandfather is going to die, and I'm stuck here, half a country away, in college and unable to do anything but wait for the next email from my mom about him and his condition. And I have to be the support for my mom, because she's the oldest of her siblings and, even if she's not there, she's the one my grandmother is turning to. Because she knows the most. Because she's the eldest. Because she's the only one of the four children my grandmother can honestly turn to without having stuff shoved in her face (or without being ignored, like my mom's brother is likely to do) about what she should do with her life, or with his life.
I'm stuck here, and all I want to do is howl and strike at the bastards that started this whole mess with their damn "mistake" and every single subsiquent mistake they made, even knowing that he wasn't a diabetic!
My only grandfather is going to die, and I have to sit here, in college, and pretend everything is just great. As if the only grandfather I've ever known isn't currently sitting in a hospital after an attack of psychosis because of two drugs proscribed to him by one doctor at the same damn time. My faith in medicine has dropped. My faith in hospitals has dropped. If I can help it, I'm never going to one in my life again.
And I still have to sit here and go to class, and meet with my friends, and pretend nothing has changed because all of their relatives are much younger than mine and in damn near perfect health and the only damn person here I could turn to is a person I only see two days a week and at that point only with others around her because she's the GM in our weekly D&D/L5R games.
Either that, or they crack jokes. I'm not in the mood for jokes.
And screw going to the "professionals" around here - they make appropriate noises where applicable, say nothing, then hand you a bill for some insane amount of cash and wave you a cheery goodbye.
My grandfather is going to die.
Maybe if I say it enough, it'll lose its meaning. Maybe if I say it enough, it'll stop hurting.
"No one's here and I fall into myself
this truth drives me into madness
I know I can stop the pain
if I will it all away..."
(Evanescence - Whisper)
Rant/ramble/getting it off my chest about family and life
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caesiusdraco
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*hugs* I know exactly how you feel. It sucks ass.
My mom died last month. I don't really even know for sure what happened. The coroner said it was natural causes. Then, I found out later that apparently a lot of coroners in Kentucky tend to just be like "Yep, that one's not breathin'." And let it go at that.
And when we tried to go down there, the landlord locked the house up and was like. "You can't go in and touch anything until after it's gone through probate." And Dave's Mom's lawyer friend said that sounded fishy, so all that's on the back of my mind is that something in that lady's house killed her, and she doesn't want us to find out about it.
And it doesn't matter if people are young. My mom died nine days after her fiftieth birthday.
I'm completely convinced that 97% of doctors are fucking retarded. Of all the people who go through college for 8 years to learn how to hold clipboards, very few are even decent.
I've made that deduction from both the horror stories my mother told me about when she got her brown recluse bite about bed-side manners. (Waiting for hours in pain until some out of state doctor got there, who then proceeded to rip bandages out her leg that were fused to the skin with abscess.) And then one of my good friends went into the hospital the other day with severe nausea and splitting pain her side. The first doctor she saw said she was just constipated. Go home and take a fiber pill.
She woke up at 2 am again with splitting pain, and went back. Yeah, they had to remove her appendix and found out she had a growth on her colon. Awesome.
And if you have or can find solid medical proof about those medications and false diagnosis, like get old medical charts, I would sue the fuck out of that hospital. Maybe that sounds really bitter and vengeful, but if they can't take care of the people in there properly, they need to stop functioning or fire some retards. Lawsuits do that pretty easily.
I'm a college student too. I'm 3 states away, and my mom left all of her possessions to a person who has all but told me directly they're only concerned about the money and getting my mom's car. They didn't want anything to do with her funeral, anything. And since she doesn't really want to do anything with it, and it's sitting in a rented house that I can't touch, because I wasn't left the estate, that means I'll probably never see a piece of jewelry, a picture, or anything else of my mother's ever again.
I really understand how you feel because it's fucking crippling. I can't write, I can't focus. There's just a million things eating away at you all at once rushing through your head that just demands...everything.
At first it's like some nightmare, you're going to wake up and it'll all be okay. But, you don't...and for a long time it's like there's no consolation.
Well, anyway, I'm done. I just wanted you to know that I read this and completely understand where you're at emotionally and mentally right now. If you ever want to chat, PM me. I think I'm more compulsive about the boards than email. Or, hell, if you want, I'll give you my cell phone number. I could use someone to talk to and talk with who actually gets it. We can blubber to each other over the phone. XD
Anyway, yeah, I'm here if you need any help. *hugs*
My mom died last month. I don't really even know for sure what happened. The coroner said it was natural causes. Then, I found out later that apparently a lot of coroners in Kentucky tend to just be like "Yep, that one's not breathin'." And let it go at that.
And when we tried to go down there, the landlord locked the house up and was like. "You can't go in and touch anything until after it's gone through probate." And Dave's Mom's lawyer friend said that sounded fishy, so all that's on the back of my mind is that something in that lady's house killed her, and she doesn't want us to find out about it.
And it doesn't matter if people are young. My mom died nine days after her fiftieth birthday.
I'm completely convinced that 97% of doctors are fucking retarded. Of all the people who go through college for 8 years to learn how to hold clipboards, very few are even decent.
I've made that deduction from both the horror stories my mother told me about when she got her brown recluse bite about bed-side manners. (Waiting for hours in pain until some out of state doctor got there, who then proceeded to rip bandages out her leg that were fused to the skin with abscess.) And then one of my good friends went into the hospital the other day with severe nausea and splitting pain her side. The first doctor she saw said she was just constipated. Go home and take a fiber pill.
She woke up at 2 am again with splitting pain, and went back. Yeah, they had to remove her appendix and found out she had a growth on her colon. Awesome.
And if you have or can find solid medical proof about those medications and false diagnosis, like get old medical charts, I would sue the fuck out of that hospital. Maybe that sounds really bitter and vengeful, but if they can't take care of the people in there properly, they need to stop functioning or fire some retards. Lawsuits do that pretty easily.
I'm a college student too. I'm 3 states away, and my mom left all of her possessions to a person who has all but told me directly they're only concerned about the money and getting my mom's car. They didn't want anything to do with her funeral, anything. And since she doesn't really want to do anything with it, and it's sitting in a rented house that I can't touch, because I wasn't left the estate, that means I'll probably never see a piece of jewelry, a picture, or anything else of my mother's ever again.
I really understand how you feel because it's fucking crippling. I can't write, I can't focus. There's just a million things eating away at you all at once rushing through your head that just demands...everything.
At first it's like some nightmare, you're going to wake up and it'll all be okay. But, you don't...and for a long time it's like there's no consolation.
Well, anyway, I'm done. I just wanted you to know that I read this and completely understand where you're at emotionally and mentally right now. If you ever want to chat, PM me. I think I'm more compulsive about the boards than email. Or, hell, if you want, I'll give you my cell phone number. I could use someone to talk to and talk with who actually gets it. We can blubber to each other over the phone. XD
Anyway, yeah, I'm here if you need any help. *hugs*
S.R. / Coeptus Weir
~*~
Before she turns, rose-thorned tail streaking my hood,
I glimpse from her a thought like jagged glass,
Yet delicate with the texture of sentience:
We remain "turtle-apes", only the shells of our armors grow.
-My Bones Waxed Old by Robert Frazier
~*~
Before she turns, rose-thorned tail streaking my hood,
I glimpse from her a thought like jagged glass,
Yet delicate with the texture of sentience:
We remain "turtle-apes", only the shells of our armors grow.
-My Bones Waxed Old by Robert Frazier
Wow. :< What a horrible sequence of events. I guess it doesn't matter now, but was there no other hospital he could go to?
I'm sorry you're so turned off on hospitals now--my mom is an incredibly competent nurse so I assure you they're not ALL horrible and senseless places. My doctors have been some of the best people I've ever met. But there's always a bad patch and I'm sorry your family hit it. :(
I'm sorry you're so turned off on hospitals now--my mom is an incredibly competent nurse so I assure you they're not ALL horrible and senseless places. My doctors have been some of the best people I've ever met. But there's always a bad patch and I'm sorry your family hit it. :(
I'm so very sorry all the shit's hitting the fan at once 
If you can, start collecting actual paperwork to deal with the doctors. While you can't necessarily sue them or get them to stop working - you CAN bring evidence to their superiors that they aren't doing a good job and therefore raising the hospitals' legal and insurance fees. You can bet the admin will look at that info, once you put it into their terms.
My own family has always been quite small, disjointed and absent. When my brother killed himself last year, honestly, I was good with that, execpt that I don't get the closure of an apology for his molesting me. My mother still doesn't acknowledge that or that he was a bad person for any reason. And I get to be the 'responsible' one here in taking care of my mom, who's now almost 80, and I'm more than casually thinking of how to get out and simply leave her alone.
Losing real family, close family, is obviously hard. It must suck. It almost makes me wish my own family had been any better than it was, so I'd feel something for em.
I think in this horrible way, I'm trying to say... um, treasure what he was to you, say your good bye if you can. You're lucky to have had a family that you love enough to worry about.
It totally sucks that you're stuck away from it all though. I do suspect that your friends will be a little better about it if you tell them why you might be in a funk.
*hugs*
If you can, start collecting actual paperwork to deal with the doctors. While you can't necessarily sue them or get them to stop working - you CAN bring evidence to their superiors that they aren't doing a good job and therefore raising the hospitals' legal and insurance fees. You can bet the admin will look at that info, once you put it into their terms.
My own family has always been quite small, disjointed and absent. When my brother killed himself last year, honestly, I was good with that, execpt that I don't get the closure of an apology for his molesting me. My mother still doesn't acknowledge that or that he was a bad person for any reason. And I get to be the 'responsible' one here in taking care of my mom, who's now almost 80, and I'm more than casually thinking of how to get out and simply leave her alone.
Losing real family, close family, is obviously hard. It must suck. It almost makes me wish my own family had been any better than it was, so I'd feel something for em.
I think in this horrible way, I'm trying to say... um, treasure what he was to you, say your good bye if you can. You're lucky to have had a family that you love enough to worry about.
It totally sucks that you're stuck away from it all though. I do suspect that your friends will be a little better about it if you tell them why you might be in a funk.
*hugs*
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StarFyre
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The thing with the hospital he went to was that it was the only one in the area that had all the specialty doctors he ended up needing. And I think the "mistakes" were nurses, not the actual doctors, but still... *sighs* and my grandmother is the only one with access to all those records, really...
... well, and the issues were spread out over different hospitals, because he'd collapse, people would call an ambulance, he'd get trucked to the nearest hospital, they'd take blood and analyze it, then instantly inject him with insulin while my grandmother was being distracted with another nurse/doctor/staffmember. The thing was that one of his medicines played havoc with his insulin/sugar levels, making him look diabetic.
That, and he's allergic to insulin and they never looked it up.
They recently moved several states south, and apparently the hospital he's at now isn't bad at all - the doctors there are reevaluating everything he's on and removing some pills, reducing others, that sort of thing...
Too little, too late, though...
I wouldn't say we were close-close, living 16 hours and four or five states away doesn't exactly lead to closeness, but he was fun to be with. He used to be a mechanic, and the thing that I always remember is how big his hands were, all gnarled and stained with engine oil and grease, his nails broken and the skin around them permanently darkened by oil and grease that wouldn't come off no matter what he used or how hard he scrubbed. He was "gruff" I guess you could say, and had a tendency to poke fun at how tiny I was compared to him, but he was fun, and was always willing to set stuff aside to play with a bored kid.
I'm finding myself doing quite a few "escapist" things lately - playing my new video game into the wee hours of the morning, school night or not, sleeping whenever that doesn't suffice, trying to force stories for my creative writing class out, driving randomly just to park and wander wherever I find myself, things like that. I spent most of today outside in the rain, listening to Evanescence and just trying not to think. And I know its not good, but I can't bring myself to care much at the moment. I'm glad my first story isn't going to be up for discussion, because I have the sinking feeling that anything I'd write at the moment would come out horribly.. horribly depressing.
As for my friends.. well, I could probably turn to at least one, but I think I'd embarass him horribly by breaking into tears. Heh, he's a full geek, and, well... yeah. Geek. Granted, he's not as socially awkward as the stereotype, but I'm really sure he'd have no clue how to deal with me crying.
And since I have to pause every couple minutes even typing this stuff in order to rub my tears away, I'm pretty sure talking aloud would have me crying in no time.
And my grandfather is still alive, for however long that lasts... I really don't want to think about how I'll be when he actually does pass away.
... well, and the issues were spread out over different hospitals, because he'd collapse, people would call an ambulance, he'd get trucked to the nearest hospital, they'd take blood and analyze it, then instantly inject him with insulin while my grandmother was being distracted with another nurse/doctor/staffmember. The thing was that one of his medicines played havoc with his insulin/sugar levels, making him look diabetic.
That, and he's allergic to insulin and they never looked it up.
They recently moved several states south, and apparently the hospital he's at now isn't bad at all - the doctors there are reevaluating everything he's on and removing some pills, reducing others, that sort of thing...
Too little, too late, though...
I wouldn't say we were close-close, living 16 hours and four or five states away doesn't exactly lead to closeness, but he was fun to be with. He used to be a mechanic, and the thing that I always remember is how big his hands were, all gnarled and stained with engine oil and grease, his nails broken and the skin around them permanently darkened by oil and grease that wouldn't come off no matter what he used or how hard he scrubbed. He was "gruff" I guess you could say, and had a tendency to poke fun at how tiny I was compared to him, but he was fun, and was always willing to set stuff aside to play with a bored kid.
I'm finding myself doing quite a few "escapist" things lately - playing my new video game into the wee hours of the morning, school night or not, sleeping whenever that doesn't suffice, trying to force stories for my creative writing class out, driving randomly just to park and wander wherever I find myself, things like that. I spent most of today outside in the rain, listening to Evanescence and just trying not to think. And I know its not good, but I can't bring myself to care much at the moment. I'm glad my first story isn't going to be up for discussion, because I have the sinking feeling that anything I'd write at the moment would come out horribly.. horribly depressing.
As for my friends.. well, I could probably turn to at least one, but I think I'd embarass him horribly by breaking into tears. Heh, he's a full geek, and, well... yeah. Geek. Granted, he's not as socially awkward as the stereotype, but I'm really sure he'd have no clue how to deal with me crying.
And since I have to pause every couple minutes even typing this stuff in order to rub my tears away, I'm pretty sure talking aloud would have me crying in no time.
And my grandfather is still alive, for however long that lasts... I really don't want to think about how I'll be when he actually does pass away.
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StarFyre
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A "small" update -- apparently my grandfather is fading faster than we originally thought.
The last time he went in to the hospital was about a week ago, for a problem that seemed to be because of his heart medication. Apparently, he was standing up and either falling over or passing out, so my grandmother put him in the hospital again.
I don't think he's coming out again.
This part I'm a little confused on, because there was a bit of a runaround while the doctors tried to guess at what was wrong. Apparently his heart medication was the issue, so they reduced the dosage (it was making it so that his heart couldn't pump enough blood to his brain), but before they could release him he got an infection supposedly from the catheter.
At some point "urinary tract infection" became "staph infection and possibly an infection in one of his heart valves" in what I was being told. It doesn't really matter in the long run. Its just one more thing that his immune system can't contend with because of the immune suppressants he's on.
Of course, now, it's even worse. He caught pneumonia. He can barely breath. He can't eat (apparently because he had a minor stroke while there which damaged the muscles in his throat. He can't swallow anymore and they can't stick a tube down his throat into his stomach because it keeps coming back up and going into his lungs).
My grandmother has decided to just say screw it -- she told the doctors to stop with the tests, it doesn't matter anymore. He's now on a high dosage of morphine to keep him from panicking when he's aware enough to realize he can't get much air because of the liquid in his lungs.
How long he lasts now depends on the infections. Staph and pneumonia. Nice combination.
On the other hand, at least he isn't in pain because of the morphine and other things they're putting in him. He's just... fading. Fast.
I'm not sure how often I'll be around now. Sometimes I cling to this board just because there's some form of human contact here, some form of distraction that doesn't involve real life. I was able to forget about this mess for a couple hours last night because of my gaming group - I swear they went out of their way to be amusing/crazy/wierd just to distract me (the entire group knows what's going on now, hard to hide it when I was barely responding to anything).
I'm not really sure if you can look forward to much in the way of Starry art or stories for a while. I'll keep going with certain things - the Loekairii giveaway, the outlines I promised Darkling Dawn... if anything major comes up, prod me? I don't think I've forgotten anything except the WDH, and that might have to wait a bit longer... I feel horrible for doing that to you guys, making you wait so much longer, but...
The last time he went in to the hospital was about a week ago, for a problem that seemed to be because of his heart medication. Apparently, he was standing up and either falling over or passing out, so my grandmother put him in the hospital again.
I don't think he's coming out again.
This part I'm a little confused on, because there was a bit of a runaround while the doctors tried to guess at what was wrong. Apparently his heart medication was the issue, so they reduced the dosage (it was making it so that his heart couldn't pump enough blood to his brain), but before they could release him he got an infection supposedly from the catheter.
At some point "urinary tract infection" became "staph infection and possibly an infection in one of his heart valves" in what I was being told. It doesn't really matter in the long run. Its just one more thing that his immune system can't contend with because of the immune suppressants he's on.
Of course, now, it's even worse. He caught pneumonia. He can barely breath. He can't eat (apparently because he had a minor stroke while there which damaged the muscles in his throat. He can't swallow anymore and they can't stick a tube down his throat into his stomach because it keeps coming back up and going into his lungs).
My grandmother has decided to just say screw it -- she told the doctors to stop with the tests, it doesn't matter anymore. He's now on a high dosage of morphine to keep him from panicking when he's aware enough to realize he can't get much air because of the liquid in his lungs.
How long he lasts now depends on the infections. Staph and pneumonia. Nice combination.
On the other hand, at least he isn't in pain because of the morphine and other things they're putting in him. He's just... fading. Fast.
I'm not sure how often I'll be around now. Sometimes I cling to this board just because there's some form of human contact here, some form of distraction that doesn't involve real life. I was able to forget about this mess for a couple hours last night because of my gaming group - I swear they went out of their way to be amusing/crazy/wierd just to distract me (the entire group knows what's going on now, hard to hide it when I was barely responding to anything).
I'm not really sure if you can look forward to much in the way of Starry art or stories for a while. I'll keep going with certain things - the Loekairii giveaway, the outlines I promised Darkling Dawn... if anything major comes up, prod me? I don't think I've forgotten anything except the WDH, and that might have to wait a bit longer... I feel horrible for doing that to you guys, making you wait so much longer, but...
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caesiusdraco
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*hugs* What they said.
S.R. / Coeptus Weir
~*~
Before she turns, rose-thorned tail streaking my hood,
I glimpse from her a thought like jagged glass,
Yet delicate with the texture of sentience:
We remain "turtle-apes", only the shells of our armors grow.
-My Bones Waxed Old by Robert Frazier
~*~
Before she turns, rose-thorned tail streaking my hood,
I glimpse from her a thought like jagged glass,
Yet delicate with the texture of sentience:
We remain "turtle-apes", only the shells of our armors grow.
-My Bones Waxed Old by Robert Frazier
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StarFyre
- Ancient Dragon
- Posts: 3246
- Joined: Wed Jul 06, 2005 10:44 am
- Location: Middle of Nowhere
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.... He's dead.
I just learned that about three minutes ago.
He's dead.
He died in his sleep last night, at 4 AM.
Now I have to go through classes like this. Or maybe I'll just end up skipping. I don't really want to, but... I couldn't care less about quizzes or peer reviews at the moment. I don't care.
My only grandfather is dead.
My mom is taking extended leave from work. She doesn't care about her paycheck probably being zero for a while because of the healthcare.
I wish it was that easy. I have to try to keep my grades from tanking. I can't afford to fuck up even one semester, because I'll lose my grants and scholarships. My family can't afford that.
He's dead. He's honest to god dead this time. He's going to be buried back in NJ, in a cemetary practically right behind the house he used to live in. He's going to be buried in his fireman's uniform. The wake is going to be in the firehouse.
After all, he was the number one fireman.
Was. I have to use the past tense now. Was.
I'm just going to email all my teachers. I can't do this. If they give me zeroes, I don't care at this moment. I'll just work harder the rest of the semester.
I just learned that about three minutes ago.
He's dead.
He died in his sleep last night, at 4 AM.
Now I have to go through classes like this. Or maybe I'll just end up skipping. I don't really want to, but... I couldn't care less about quizzes or peer reviews at the moment. I don't care.
My only grandfather is dead.
My mom is taking extended leave from work. She doesn't care about her paycheck probably being zero for a while because of the healthcare.
I wish it was that easy. I have to try to keep my grades from tanking. I can't afford to fuck up even one semester, because I'll lose my grants and scholarships. My family can't afford that.
He's dead. He's honest to god dead this time. He's going to be buried back in NJ, in a cemetary practically right behind the house he used to live in. He's going to be buried in his fireman's uniform. The wake is going to be in the firehouse.
After all, he was the number one fireman.
Was. I have to use the past tense now. Was.
I'm just going to email all my teachers. I can't do this. If they give me zeroes, I don't care at this moment. I'll just work harder the rest of the semester.
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caesiusdraco
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*hugs* I'm so sorry...
S.R. / Coeptus Weir
~*~
Before she turns, rose-thorned tail streaking my hood,
I glimpse from her a thought like jagged glass,
Yet delicate with the texture of sentience:
We remain "turtle-apes", only the shells of our armors grow.
-My Bones Waxed Old by Robert Frazier
~*~
Before she turns, rose-thorned tail streaking my hood,
I glimpse from her a thought like jagged glass,
Yet delicate with the texture of sentience:
We remain "turtle-apes", only the shells of our armors grow.
-My Bones Waxed Old by Robert Frazier
Leave and take your 3 days. Schools and work places have grieving period rules (laws?) and must honor it. They can't dock you for leaving for a family emergency.
*hugs* If you need anything please email me. Hang in there, hon.
*hugs* If you need anything please email me. Hang in there, hon.
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StarFyre
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He died in his sleep, so.. yeah, he wasn't in pain. They kept him too doped up on morphine for him to feel anything.
He just exhaled, and didn't inhale again. The interesting thing is that, yesterday at some point my grandmother finally accepted that he wasn't going to make it this time, and told him that if he "had to go, go. Go home to your parents." Before that point she kept telling him that he had to get better.
He just exhaled, and didn't inhale again. The interesting thing is that, yesterday at some point my grandmother finally accepted that he wasn't going to make it this time, and told him that if he "had to go, go. Go home to your parents." Before that point she kept telling him that he had to get better.
I'm actually tearing up now. That's love for you. People will hang on for their loved ones, and sometimes all they need is permission to rest. It happened the same way with my mother and her grandfather, too.
Much love and sympathy to you, Star. I hope there's at least a little condolence in knowing he's at peace and without pain, now. You go do whatever it is you need to do.
Much love and sympathy to you, Star. I hope there's at least a little condolence in knowing he's at peace and without pain, now. You go do whatever it is you need to do.
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The same thing happened to my grandmother -- my mom's mom. She had waited until my mom was out of the room before letting go. This was the December before I was born, so about 21 years ago. I never got to meet her, but I wish I had. She seemed like a great lady (She'd come over from Denmark in 1924! :O).
While it is a great loss, you are lucky that you did get to know him and spend time with him. It's important to remember that.
While it is a great loss, you are lucky that you did get to know him and spend time with him. It's important to remember that.
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StarFyre
- Ancient Dragon
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Well, he's buried now. Full honors and everything. He had a red velvet lining, with the fireman's emblem embroidered on it, saying he was from Middlebrust Volunteer Fire Department, and below that was the "A1 - 1A" from his licence plate. The first Fireman's licence plate to be handed out in order to distinguish private firemen cars from other people.
During the entire day on Sunday he had an honor guard of firemen, and then the Veterens had a small ceremony that night and went through their little quiet salute to him, giving my grandmother a flag and a laminated sheet of paper with the symbolism of each fold of the flag as well as a veteran's salute to a fallen comrad on the back. They also played taps for him and some other things that... I can't really remember at this point. Then the firemen did their little ceremony with involved a short little "meeting" where they spoke and called his name then went on to say that he'd never respond to the summons again and... yeah. They also rang a bell - three sets of five rings (which apparently means that everyone in the firehouse has returned home safely).
Monday, they loaded his coffin on the back of an historic fire truck (similar in style to this: http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v478/ ... afd018.jpg ) with the american flag over it and started the procession off. There was a Fire Department pickup with flashing lights in front, followed by a brand new fire engine, then the historic engine, then the two limos followed by the procession of cars, then a second brand new fire engine bringing up the tail. We went to the church, had a nice Catholic mass (oy. vey. Though the preacher was rather shocked when he realized that, yes, Pops and Granny had been married for 57 years ^.^ I had to bite back laughter at that.) then everyone got back in the cars, Pops was put back on the fire engine, and we headed out again. We took the long way around to the cemetary to go past the firehouse so that they could ring the big gong there another three sets of five times. Then we went to the cemetary, where the Navy honor guard were waiting. They had their little ceremony, another flag folding, another presentation of a folded flag to my grandmother, then the firemen had another small thing, ringing the bell on the old fire truck another three sets of five rings.
Then there was the salutes, cause, well, Pops had apparently been in both the Merchant Marines and the National Guard, so that was interesting. Then when we were putting the flowers on the coffin, the firemen put their gloves on there as well.
After that, we all went back to the firehouse for food (and, in several of my relatives cases, to get completely smashed before noon, which was an issue, cause we came back at 11 >.> but some of them managed to do it.)
Then, I spent the rest of that day, plus all of yesterday driving. I hate driving. Especially an entire day and a half of driving. On "mountain" roads. Up and down. Up and down. Geeeeh. So what if the Appalachian mountains aren't Rocky Mountain style mountains? For someone who lives on the flatlands where you can see for miles in every direction...
So that was my weekend. That's why I haven't been on. I figured that three or so days wasn't worth the bother of hauling a laptop with me through airport security. (Yes, we flew out and drove back. Don't ask.)
During the entire day on Sunday he had an honor guard of firemen, and then the Veterens had a small ceremony that night and went through their little quiet salute to him, giving my grandmother a flag and a laminated sheet of paper with the symbolism of each fold of the flag as well as a veteran's salute to a fallen comrad on the back. They also played taps for him and some other things that... I can't really remember at this point. Then the firemen did their little ceremony with involved a short little "meeting" where they spoke and called his name then went on to say that he'd never respond to the summons again and... yeah. They also rang a bell - three sets of five rings (which apparently means that everyone in the firehouse has returned home safely).
Monday, they loaded his coffin on the back of an historic fire truck (similar in style to this: http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v478/ ... afd018.jpg ) with the american flag over it and started the procession off. There was a Fire Department pickup with flashing lights in front, followed by a brand new fire engine, then the historic engine, then the two limos followed by the procession of cars, then a second brand new fire engine bringing up the tail. We went to the church, had a nice Catholic mass (oy. vey. Though the preacher was rather shocked when he realized that, yes, Pops and Granny had been married for 57 years ^.^ I had to bite back laughter at that.) then everyone got back in the cars, Pops was put back on the fire engine, and we headed out again. We took the long way around to the cemetary to go past the firehouse so that they could ring the big gong there another three sets of five times. Then we went to the cemetary, where the Navy honor guard were waiting. They had their little ceremony, another flag folding, another presentation of a folded flag to my grandmother, then the firemen had another small thing, ringing the bell on the old fire truck another three sets of five rings.
Then there was the salutes, cause, well, Pops had apparently been in both the Merchant Marines and the National Guard, so that was interesting. Then when we were putting the flowers on the coffin, the firemen put their gloves on there as well.
After that, we all went back to the firehouse for food (and, in several of my relatives cases, to get completely smashed before noon, which was an issue, cause we came back at 11 >.> but some of them managed to do it.)
Then, I spent the rest of that day, plus all of yesterday driving. I hate driving. Especially an entire day and a half of driving. On "mountain" roads. Up and down. Up and down. Geeeeh. So what if the Appalachian mountains aren't Rocky Mountain style mountains? For someone who lives on the flatlands where you can see for miles in every direction...
So that was my weekend. That's why I haven't been on. I figured that three or so days wasn't worth the bother of hauling a laptop with me through airport security. (Yes, we flew out and drove back. Don't ask.)
Wow - what a procession! It does sound like he was appreciated and loved, his whole life. And that he affected so many people doing brave things. Good work, sir.
*Hugs*
*Hugs*
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Graeth
- Dragon
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My condolences.
My grandpa died Feb 1rst and was interred the 10th, you're not too far on the road behind me.
It sounds like he led a very good life, affecting many people and saving many lives. And it is always interesting to find out the history of someone you thought you knew and how important they were, their actions and decisions.
Like with my grandpa, he was one of the first Chinese immigrants to come to Arizona. He had been attending college in New York when his family called him back because his father had lost all his money. Anyways, being one of the first in the state, he was a founding member of the first churches, a close friend and confidant of a mayor and a governor and served in WWII.
And of those, I only knew of one, or sorta about one. I always thought he was in the mafia because he had a tommygun under his bed, but nope, he was a Sargent and fought in both theaters.
It's always so interesting to find out the history of someone you thought you knew all about.
My grandpa died Feb 1rst and was interred the 10th, you're not too far on the road behind me.
It sounds like he led a very good life, affecting many people and saving many lives. And it is always interesting to find out the history of someone you thought you knew and how important they were, their actions and decisions.
Like with my grandpa, he was one of the first Chinese immigrants to come to Arizona. He had been attending college in New York when his family called him back because his father had lost all his money. Anyways, being one of the first in the state, he was a founding member of the first churches, a close friend and confidant of a mayor and a governor and served in WWII.
And of those, I only knew of one, or sorta about one. I always thought he was in the mafia because he had a tommygun under his bed, but nope, he was a Sargent and fought in both theaters.
It's always so interesting to find out the history of someone you thought you knew all about.