I'm back from Florida...I'm not sure what to say. But now looking back at all my worries I had before I went to Florida, they are nothing.Stupid, so stupid. I'm still trying to take in all of what happend this weekend. I think I'll just start from the begining, maybe make some sense out of it.
We left friday morning on a plane and got to florida at 12 am. My mom, my aunt patty, and myself stayed at my aunt joni's. We went straight to my grandpa's house to see him. He's so small. He is SO, SMALL. He said "make this your last goodbye, I dont want you to come down here anymore, wasting all your money". He keeps saying, Ima goner. Thats all he says. Either Ima goner or, there is no hope.
I wanted to tell him so bad that no doctor can ever tell him that he will die. There's hope as long as he thinks there is. I don't want him to die at all. I honestly don't. But after this trip, I'm not quite sure.He's in so much pain. He can't eat well. He's always tired. Doesn't get up out of bed. I don't even feel right, writing about all of this, but I have to. I need to think about it for myself, as selfish as it sounds. Well, since he couldnt get up out of bed, my mom and her two other sisters, my aunt jonie and aunt pati sat there on his bed all day. We sat and listened to his stories and old memories. We laughed at his jokes that he tries so hard to tell. As long as we were there, he would not be left alone. Not for one second. I felt like I needed to tell him so much, but when ever I tried, I couldn't. I asked him if maybe we can paint later on because he used to love to paint. He's an amazing artist. Just, amazing. Poppy said "maybe next time, I'm just so tired". He knows very well that there will not be a next time. He knows its only going to get worse. I just wish he can enjoy every last minute he has with us. He makes me cry all day. Tears pour out with out my permission.
This all would be easier to take if he didn't want to live so badly. He just doesn't want to leave my grandma. I bet he would have died a while ago if it wasnt for my grandma. He keeps saying how he doesnt want to leave her alone, that all the guys will be after her when hes gone. It is the truth though. That place is a breeding grown for the elderly. But nanny won't be alone, not for 1 second. And she would never EVER even look at another man for as long as she lives. Thats just her character. Thats just how she is. They love eachother so much. She told him " you are my guiding light". Seeing them really makes me hope that I will find someone and we will fall in love just as deep as they have. I hope.
Everyone was out of the room for a little while. It was just me and poppy on his bed laying down. I was there. I was right there, moderating his breathing. He wasn't going to go as long as I was right there with him. I wasn't going to let him. His chest goes up every 3 seconds. 1-2-3. up. sometimes 5. 1-2-3-4-5 up. I started getting worried when he'd wait 8 seconds though. I held his hand the whole while. His cold, little hands. The same hands that once helped me learn how to hook a worm so the fish wouldn't bite it off. Those same hands were once strong, and alive. Filled with power, only that a good man like my grandpa could have. I remember his hands over mine like it was yesterday. The feeling of his rough, caloused finger tips holding onto my small, white palms, making me grab hold of a slimey, swishing green fish. The fish was bigger then me, and I was scared to death to touch it because poppy had recently gotten bit by one. But if I didn't hold it, his short temper would go off. " for god sake's! hold the fish!! no no, just hold the fish you big goof head!". So I held it. And it was fun. I liked holding a slimey, cold fish in between my weak, tiny fingers. Now years later my hand feels heavy over his. Us two just layed, not wanting to move until someone took one of us away.
I can not believe what cancer has done to him. His booming voice, filled with character was lost inside his bones. We only hear his dead voice. I know that voice. He's so tired. I cant imagine anything worse then waiting for the end. It will come, we all know this, but we just don't know how soon. My mom is losing the dad she loves. I am losing my fishing buddy, my friend, my mentor. My grandma is losing the love of her life. There's too many tears in that house.
I tried to tell my grandma later on just how much I love this family. Just how great we are. How amazing it is that we all turned out to be unbelievable people with our great grandparent's being evil, mean people and all. But of couse I didn'nt know how to say this. So in between sobs, I cried into her shirt. I asked her, when she was very little, just a girl, would she ever think she would be this blessed? We are and I want her to know that I KNOW IT. I want her to know that I don't deserve this family. I wanted to tell her that theyre all too amazing for someone like myself to ruin. I hope I didnt annoy her with my petty little crys. I hope I didn't annoy any of them.
I want them to know I love them. I want POPPY to know I love HIM.
There's just so many great memories with him. When I kissed his head goodbye, I really didn't want to leave him. I felt we were just getting started. He was supposed to always be there for me. He was supposed to watch his grand kids grow up and fall in love. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. But then again, how else was it going to happen?
The weidest thing of all of was my uncle Bobby. For the longest time my uncle bob isolated himself from the family. I thought he hated me. He would neve say hi, or bye, or I love you. Yesterday, I think I found out why. When he was 27 he found out he had two types of cancer. It was all over his body. He was told he only had until his 30's to live. He was given options like chemo therapy and surgerys, but none of them gave him actual hope. They said it might work, but theres a big chance it wont. He didn't accept any of the treatments. They made him go to a phsychiatrist because they couldnt understand how someone can opt to die. So after this painful kind of therapy he had to go through, he went home and slept. His sleeping wasnt affected by his cancer at all. When he fell asleep he said something happend. Something was there that made him aware that this wasnt a dream. It was telling him to make sure he knew that this wasnt a dream.He said he saw a woman holding a baby. The woman said, its okay, the baby will be alright. Uncle bobby woke up so fast that he couldnt feel his legs. He said he felt like they were still there, where ever " there" was. He touched his body and felt an electric shock go through his body. His phone rang and it was his doctors. They said to come down to their office immediatley. He didn't want to go because he didn't care anymore. Its been bad news, it will only be worse news. But they insisted. So he went down and the doctor said that they took x-rays of his body, and there was no more cancer. His cancer was ALL gone. He told him that this is classified as a meriacle because theres no other way to explain it.
Theres so much more to the story that I just cant get into right now. I am not the type of person who believes in these things. Neither is my uncle bob. But I have to, and he has to because this happend to him.
Now, yesterday uncle Bobby took pictures of everyone. Each person came out perfectly clear except poppy. My grandpa in ever picture would come out blurry. He zoomed in on one picture in perticular and it looked like a shadown blending into poppy. He zoomed in more and it looked like HIS grandpa, my grandpa's dad. This was not that great only because his grandpa wasnt a great man. He was mean to poppy. So was his mom. They were alcoholics. They hit him. Poppy was never enough. He always had to prove he loved them, but it was never enough. Anyway, he showed me the picture and I saw it. He showed my my mom and my two aunts, and they saw it. As the day went on poppy's dad got bigger. Poppy looked more and more like a skeleton. Then I swear, I SWEAR, we saw another face. A little boys face. Poppy's face when he was a kid. A medium has told my aunt before all of this that lois anthony has a very strong presence here. Lois is my poppys dad, the one in the picture. Uncle bob tried to print the pictures but the computer said it was empty. He brang it to two different wallgreens and they said nothing was on the stick. Every picture was on the memory stick. And my head hurts. I cant really fully grasp everything that has happend this week. I'm supposed to be the strong one. The daughter who comforts her mom. But this, this is killing me. This whole ordeal is killing me. Its emotionally exhausting. I am so tired but sleep does nothing to help. I can't even sleep. Theres just so much more to everything that I cant even think about. I didn't know nearly any of this before friday and now I know more then I even wanted to.
I love Poppy. He is a great man. I'm not very religious, but for him, I will be. I am trying. So I hope that God see's what I see. I hope that Poppy will be taken very well care of. I hope he won't be too scared, because I know everyone will be just a little bit. I hope he wont be too sad because I know that we all will miss his more than a little bit. I hope that he will be happy because I know that we all wont be until we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is.