Grandpa: One Month Later

It's been one month and a day since my Grandpa Hoover died. It hurts to even write that sentence, let alone live in the same house where he did for the past 14 years. My heart is still broken, and will be for some time.

Almost all day and when I try to sleep, all I can think about is that morning one month ago when I turned to corner of the assisted living place to see him lifeless on the hallway floor with the EMT's working on him. I walk around sad all day because I can't get that image out of my mind. His last words to me keep ringing in my hears. He woke up briefly while I was praying silently for him the night before and he patted my hands with one of his, smiled, and said "You're still here." I hurt so deeply that I wasn't there when he awoke again, and that he died without any family there.

I remember him saying "Life will go on without me," and I know it will, but its not the same. There is a huge hole in my life without him. I am so glad that God rescued from his sin on December 1, 2006 and that He brought him safely home when he died (2 Tim 4:18), but I miss him so badly it hurts, still.

I wanted to post what I wrote last month in my journal about what I learned through this experience. This is what I wrote.

#1. It’s not normal to live in pain. My grandpa, his brother, and two sisters died of stomach cancer so I have to get checked for that regularly because it’s in my family. His doctor treated him for 3 years for indigestion and an ulcer without any x-ray--I’m trying hard to view that doctor’s incompetence through the lens of God’s sovereignty, that him dying of cancer as a result of miss diagnosis for 4 years, was what God wanted, but it’s not helping much. I learned to ask two very important questions of any doctor from now on. First, What's the worst thing this could be? Second, Can you prove to me it's not that?

#2 You don't choose when you die. One of the most difficult things for me is knowing that last thing my grandpa wanted was to die. We talked just a couple days earlier about athletes training for some medal or trophy that really means little, but when he works hard he does it, and then he finished my sentence, "so I can live." One of the saddest moments in all of this was when he said [My brother and sisters] smoked and drank. I didn’t. I watched what I ate. I took vitamins. I thought I had them beat.” This has made God quite scary to me, a God who sovereignly keeps doctors from diagnosing cancer early so that He can take a man far earlier than any expected.

#3. Love your family deeply while you can and it will pay off in the end. So many people had no one visiting them at Hoag and Flagship and he had someone there from around 9am to 10pm everyday with very little time alone. Also, I hope I have a grandson who does the things for me that I did for him. I did those things because I loved him so much and I loved him so much because of the love he’d shown me for 29 years. Connie’s (his girlfriend) told me a couple times that he told her how much he loved me and how grateful he was for me, and I’m so glad he knew how much I loved him.

#4. Have medical and life insurance and take care of your funeral arrangements before you die like he had and did. It’s made life so much easier on my mom and uncles.

#5. Leave explanations for things you keep or people won’t know why they’re important. I saw this when going through old photos on Kauai after his brother died. The family lost a huge connection to the past when he died and consequently we were looking at old pictures of people no body knows.

#6. Let people know you’re sick. I let everyone know at the church plant and on my blog and I know others let people know. He was thoroughly prayed for, and it brought him great joy.

#7. In the end, all you’ve got are family and family friends, whether you like them or not, so keep them close no matter what you or they do. Aside from my grandpa’s love for grandma and me, I think the thing I admire most about him was that everyone loved him and that he had many, many friends. I want that to be true of me, but I’m so introverted that I don’t know if it ever will be.

#8. You really see what people are made of and what kind of friends they really are when death hits your family. We've seen such an outpouring of love from so many people that it's been overwhelming.

I hope that helps. Though I've been crying while posting this I know it was helpful for me to do.