That night Grandpa had a stroke. We knew he wasn't well but didn't know what was going on till the next morning. While Vivian was at school and Evan was at Karen's, EMS came and took my dad to the hospital. CT scans revealed a big stroke. The kids came to visit him in the hospital today. I have so many thoughts swirling in my head. I haven't been able to pick through the individual threads. So here are some confused thoughts and observations instead.
Life has blurry edges. Some time back I admitted not knowing when life starts. Probably sometime between a sperm meeting an egg and a baby being born. But I say probably. The end of life is blurry too. As I type these words I'm sitting beside by dad's hospital bed. The person laying here is less alive than the one who had a late lunch on raakhi day and walked himself to bed for a nap. And more alive than when his heart beats for the final time, which is probably the end as I know it. But again I say probably.
People don't want to talk about dying. Even in hospitals where they deal with death everyday. They look down and shuffle their shoes and their words. I need to find out what happens after my dad is taken off iv's and doesn't have a feeding tube. I need the details so Jo and I can help Evan and Vivian through it. So that I can tell Alu how long he should plan to be in Austin. So that I can prepare myself. I started asking doctors this morning. The neurologist told me to ask the internal medicine doctor. She said to wait for the MRI reports. The second neurologist mumbled about my dad not being able to use the language area of his brain. The social worker said "great questions" and then punted and said I should ask the lady from the hospice. The hospice lady said she's not a nurse but that her nurse will answer my questions tomorrow morning. Even the internet - my normal source - is vague.
Vivian is a loving intelligent sensitive person. Jo or I don't sugar coat the truth for her. We left Evan sitting on Nicolle's lap and walked down the hospital hallway with Vivian. I told her that grandpa wasn't well. That he wasn't going to get better. Then I realized that I was beating around the bush and I finished with "and he's going to die soon". Vivian cried and cried. I could see the deep sadness in her face and hear it in her sobs. Her eyes looked like they were a hundred years old. I don't know if I should have handled it differently.
Evan is a bundle of love and joy. He bounced into the hospital room and filled it with happiness. He cheerfully waved and said hello to grandpa. He jumped and danced and sang. He got the nurse to get popsicles and juice for him and Vivian and sat on Nicolle and slurped his popsicle and repeatedly gave himself brain freezes. And when he saw that Vivian was sad he said that grandpa would be there forever.
