Pop

There's something I believe deserves acknowledgment. This past Tuesday marked a year since my grandfather, Pop, had quadruple bypass surgery following a heart attack he suffered while caring for Nana. This is a man who, until about this time last year, spent each and every day of the past few years caring for my dying grandmother. As she drifted away, he did all in his power to keep her near, to maintain her lifestyle and her dignity. He refused to put her in a nursing home. When it was suggested that he purchase a hospital bed for his own ease in caring for her, he refused; he wasn't about to stop sleeping next to his wife after sixty years lying side-by-side.

As I write this, I have the end of She's Having a Baby playing in the background. (Seriously, you need to see this movie.) This shouldn't give anything away...I've just come to the part where "This Woman's Work" plays over a montage of the couple's early married years. It makes my heart ache. This is how I imagine my grandparents, except in the 1950s (and I actually think it's pretty close to the first years of my own parents' marriage). I love it.

Anyway, early one morning, Pope woke up to turn Nana, as he did several times each night. He was short of breath, but he got back in bed and went to sleep. We're talking about an eighty-four-year-old man doing all of the labor involved in caring for an adult who could walk...who could not even adjust herself while seated. It was hard, hard work.

But he kept with it. He's loyal. He loved her...he still loves her. And, oh, how he misses her. I think he always thought he'd go first, but he didn't. He's here with us and a new lifestyle is taking shape. This is how I would sum up the past year in a few words:

Fear.

Grief.

Joy.

Love.

Life. So much life.