Pops

Oh Pops…. This blog post is the hardest I’ve ever had to write in my entire life and I don't want to write it. Not one little bit. But I know if I don't write it now, while all the emotions are fresh and the pain is throbbing, some of the small details will fade. But man... this hurts so bad. Because I lost someone so dear to my heart. I have lost people I’ve loved in my life before. But I have never lost someone I’ve known my entire life; someone I’ve loved my entire life. And yet… here I am. Mourning the loss of my dear grandpa who died from complications of Covid-19 on Tuesday, August 3rd at 2:12 am. 

He contracted Covid shortly after the 4th of July weekend. His symptoms were mild at first. In fact, I saw him in the middle of his quarantine (July 13th) and he was fine! Truly- he was blowing up our tubes so that we could go float the Star River and borrow his tubes to do so.  When we were done floating the river he brought out frozen chocolate candy and fudge bars out of his freezer and set them down in the garage so that we could go in and pick out a treat to leave his house with (I must note that that is Sully's most vivid memory of him. When I told Sully Pops died, he asked if it was the Pops who brought him chocolate. And then he cried and cried when he asked "when he goes to Heaven, can he come back home?" and I had to say "no.")  He coughed some but he was doing great. On July 18th him and my grandma were both having a harder time breathing so they went to the ER. The ER staff was unbelievably rude to Pops; rude enough that he said that he wouldn’t be seen by them because they had zero respect for him…. We thought he didn’t want to be seen because he felt ok but it was actually that he didn’t want to be treated by someone who treated him so poorly… Anyway. Nana had x-rays done and she was cleared to leave, even though they both were still feeling bad. They went home and she started getting better but he started getting worse. On July 21st he woke up and couldn’t form a sentence because his breathing was too shallow and he was confused about where he was.  He was clammy and felt very sick so Nana took him to their doctor. The doctor said he needed to go to the hospital NOW so Nana then rushed him to the hospital.  He was admitted and she had no idea that she would not see him again for 12 days.  What they found out then was that he had suffered a mini-heart attack, had extremely low oxygen levels, and was experiencing kidney failure- on TOP of having Covid.  She was not allowed to be with him because they brought him into the Covid ward.  We all prayed hard and the next day they said his kidneys were starting to work again and his heart was doing much better.  So we all rejoiced, even though they said his oxygen was still too low. But it’s Pops.  He’s strong. He’s stronger than most men who are even younger than him. He will come out of this- NO DOUBT IN MY MIND. I worried that “WHEN” he came out of this, his heart might be a little weaker. But he would be fine. Days went by and the hospital still refused to let Nana in. They also wouldn’t call her and give her updates regularly or let him call her- he was too weak to dial her himself and even though my uncle Tom smuggled his phone into him, no one would plug it in regularly for him so it was dead and he had no way to reach her. She began driving to the hospital daily to get updates since no one was calling her. Eventually, some kind Chaplain set up a tablet for her while at the hospital, and gave one to Pops as well, so that they could speak through those. She did that 2 days in a row- both times she cried and told us how sad and sick he looked. He had no one with him and was losing his will to fight. He was suffering all alone and his oxygen levels were DANGEROUSLY low at this point. The 3rd time she went there to talk to him, they said she could no longer do that- they weren’t letting ANYONE into the hospital who wasn’t a COVID patient so she couldn’t even speak to him from a different section of the building. They made her leave. She had no updates on him.  On day 10 they told her that he was dying. Can you imagine getting that news after so many sporadic updates? Because it was all so sporadic, getting a phone call saying he is dying with no recent previous updates on his deteriorating health before that, absolutely SHOCKED us all.  But then Pops called her! A MIRACLE! He called her on his own from his room and said he still wanted to fight! She spoke to him and told him how many thousands of people were praying for him. Literally- thousands. When he heard that, he knew he could not give up. He wanted to live. We were all SO excited- tears of joy! With a will to live, he would make it! But then… later that night, he had a turn for the worse.  His oxygen was so low that the hospital staff said there was one more machine they could try to get his oxygen levels up. If this machine worked, he might live.  If it didn’t, he would die.  We all fasted and prayed. We pleaded with God- please don’t take him. Not now. Not yet. Nana needs him; we all need him. Don’t take him in this way where his last 2 weeks of life was being spent in utter isolation. We prayed and prayed and prayed. And the next morning it was determined that the machine did not work; his lungs had hardened  and couldn’t receive oxygen and he was dying. He would not live another 24 hours. Only then did they let my Nana in.  They said only her; but his kids were all there and they said “that’s our Dad- please let us all in to say goodbye.” They said no but they would let one of the kids in.  Since Lori is the oldest they let it be her.  While in there, Pops said we could all FaceTime him.  (We, as in his grandchildren).  We all waited our turns but we did all get the chance to FaceTime him, even though we only got about 1 minute each.  He touched the screen for each of us and we touched back.  For me, that would be my final “touch” with him.  It was over a spotty cellphone FaceTime but I still needed that. He told me he was so sad that he didn't get to hug me when I stood on his driveway. I told him I was so sad about it too, but I was so happy he was getting to go see David. We both told each other we loved each other- I kept repeating it over and over.... And then, in his final words to me through labored breaths, he said “Stay good. Stay Pure. So we can be together forever.”  If you’re reading this, you know how my heart felt. I don’t even have the words to describe the pain so I won’t try to….

A few miracles later, the hospital said he could go home- he didn’t think he would be able to.  He wanted to be home when he passed away more than anything; he was ready. They warned Nana that he might not make it to the house. They told her that the oxygen he was hooked up to was ONLY allowed to be administered in the ICU- when he got on the ambulance he would only be receiving small amounts of oxygen and might not make it. But it was a risk he was willing to take.  They rushed him home to a room in their house that Hospice had rushed to set up for him. He was purple when he got there but as soon as he was in his house they hooked him back up to oxygen. It was still not the amount he needed but it was something. It was enough to give him a few more hours.  All 8 of his living children (and David for sure) were there with him in his final hours. They sang to him, they all touched him and prayed with him; they fed him. They stroked his face and arms and head. They fed him homemade sourdough bread and tomato soup because that was something he said “he would miss” when he died. They all had their own messages to give him and they all had the time to do it. Not a lot of it- but time that was priceless and sacred. And of course, they gave Nana some much needed alone time with him.  I can not imagine the good-bye she had for him.  His sweetheart of 60 years, and suddenly she has to say goodbye. Nana later told me that she thought when he got home, he’d pass in a few days. She said she could even picture him slowly walking around the house a couple more times. She didn’t know that he would leave them SO soon. But he did. And it was beyond shocking and beyond sad, but there is no greater blessing for his darling wife and children that they were with him until his final breath. Thank you Heavenly Father, for giving them that.

 

When Nana opened this gift, she started crying. After a long while she touched his face and touched his hand and said "I can FEEL him right now. I FEEL him when I look at this." She told me how his hands were her favorite part of him; and his hand around her shoulders made this her favorite picture. Because he was such a hard worker and his hands had done so many amazing things throughout his life- she wanted a picture of him just like this where she could always see his hands.

   

This is the last picture real picture I ever took with my Pops. It’s not super clear but it was taken July 13th at 3:18pm.  Him and my Nana were standing behind us because they had Covid and didn’t want to spread it. But if I had known… I would have hugged him.  I would have hugged him hard, despite him being sick because exactly 3 weeks later he was gone. He seemed fine when we visited him this day, despite just a little cough.  He was his energetic, heathy self. I thought “man, I hate that I can’t spend time with him on this trip but I’ll see him next time I’m in town.” I had NO doubt about it.  He was healthy! He was so much younger than his age- truly.  

In my grief I feel sorrow and anger.  Anger at the hospital staff for not letting his sweet wife of 60 years in to see him, even when she had been cleared of Covid.  Angry that the last 2 weeks of his life he was so lonely- isolated in a hospital where NO ONE could visit him. They wouldn’t let anyone in so he suffered alone with strangers until his last day- only then, when they knew he had a few hours left did they let his wife and kids in to be with him. I know God has a plan, and I guess He needed my Pops sooner than we could have ever expected.  But Thursday, as I flew home to go to his funeral, all I was, was sad. Deep down in my soul. This is TRULY the best man I know.  The best man anyone who has met him knows.  He had thousands of people praying for him! But maybe his son on the other side needed his Daddy back- he hadn’t seen him since he passed away at 8 years old.  Maybe God has work for him to do. I don’t have the answers.  But I do know that I’ll love him forever. And I wish my last hug with him wasn’t back on Thanksgiving.  And gosh this hurts.  I’ll get through the anger eventually, and hopefully someday all I will feel is happiness at this sweet, sweet memories.  But Pops, I love you. Be with us often. Because we need you.  I can’t wait to see you again someday. 

Right when I landed on Thursday, I went straight to my Nana’s house, threw myself into her arms and for a long while we just cried together. After that, we sat on the couch together, just her and I, held hands and talked for a long time. About Pops, about how she was doing, about the future and the past. There were a lot of expected tears, but there was also a lot of UNEXPECTED laughter- if you know my Nana, you know that she is quite possibly the silliest woman on the planet. I had not smiled in days, but this sweet woman brought out my smile, even in the depths of our grief. With sadness in her eyes she said that Pops would not want us to be so depressed. So what she wanted at his funeral was for everyone to not only mourn his passing, but to fully celebrate his life. She knew there would be the deepest sadness felt among her and the family, but she also wanted us to smile and enjoy the day spending time with each other remembering the great man he was. She wanted all of his grandchildren and great grandchildren to pick out stickers that made us think of him and place them on his casket (I applied my kid’s stickers that they picked out for him since they could not be there). She wanted a big dinner together at the end where we could just BE together as a huge, happy family. So we did. There were THE most tender moments I’ve ever witnessed in my life, the most sad moments, the most spiritual moments, moments/pictures that are way too personal to share and talk about on social media, but also moments that buoyed me up and filled my heart with pure unexpected joy. We laughed, we cried, we cried some more, and we hugged all day long. This weekend was therapeutic to me in more ways than one. I will never stop being sad that my dear Pops is not with us anymore. But saying goodbye to him and praying with him one last time was something my soul needed, and I got that. It was the most heavy, yet most beautiful weekend ever. #FamilyIsEverything

P.S. My Nana wore her most fancy dress she owned in his honor- paired with sparkly heels; she was in her Sunday best for her sweet man’s day. She is just the cutest.

One last picture from the day of the funeral (which, by the way was on August 6th at 3pm. Viewing at 1:30, family prayer at 2:45....) 12 years ago at this exact burial ground, a 22 year old me swung a Olivia 2 year old Olivia around.  Fast forward 12 years and a 14 year old Olivia is swinging around a 2 year old Coco. Isn't that so special??

One silver lining to being back in Boise for Pop's funeral was that all 5 of my Mom's kids were in town together. We haven't all been together for 3 years now. Sometimes it’s hard to even remember life before our spouses and children; before we moved out and left the house we shared together. But when we all get together and reminisce about the past, laughing about memories we’ve long forgotten, it brings me back to those days long ago, when it was just us 5 (and our parents) and it makes me so, SO happy! Plus, leaning on my brother and sisters and Mom and Dad during one of the hardest weekends of our lives was truly just what we ALL needed.

They danced together for just over 60 years. They will dance together again someday, but for now, this sweet and tender grandpa of mine gets to go to his Heavenly home where his son has been waiting to see his Daddy for 43 years. What an amazing reunion that will be. Pops…. I love you. Give David a big hug for me.