This weekend I had to deal with the prospects of something I had hoped not to deal with ever and have been blessed with not having to deal with much at all in my life: mortality. My grandfather suddenly become very ill on Thursday night and took a turn seemingly for the worst on Saturday, so I flew back to be with him in case the worst happened. Luckily, he got through the most trying times and seemingly has stabilized, but he is still at the hospital with a firm discharge date. The fact that my grandfather is 95 years old (turning 96 in December, hopefully) doesn't change the fact that I was troubled by the possibility of his sudden death; I thought I was prepared for it given his age, but I guess I'm never really prepared for it; plus he's usually pretty healthy for a 96-year-old and has a healthy appetite.
My views on death have changed; I used to be "deathly" afraid of death, and ironically it was my grandfather who made me aware of the possibility of death late one night. I think I was 6 or 7 years old, and in my inquisitive nature I finally asked my grandfather, "will you die one day?" Yes, he said, and you will too, a long time from now. Everyone dies. And he told me not to worry about it since I was so young. But that night I worried about it for a long time because "I don't want to die!" and I've thought about it since, always being too scared to even think too deeply about it because the thought of not having any more thoughts, not being able to do anything, FOREVER after I die was just pretty overwhelming. I'm not that young anyore, and I'm now closer to my death than I was before, but ironically I'm less scared of it, because I've accomplished many of the things I wanted to do: life goals, stability, experienced great things, and it's like the 5 stages of grief: I got though denial, and went to acceptance. I think of death as just the opposite of life, and my previous lamentation that it isn't fair for me to have to die has been neutralized by gratefulness that I was born, that I get to live a long and healthy life before I do eventually die.
Now I'm more focused on my grandfather's quality of life before he dies, which might not be for a long time, but it's better to be prepared for it: it's much more ideal for me if it happens in a peaceful way, but if I've learned anything about real life it is unlikely to be in the dramatic way that Hollywood depicts it: surrounded by family members, have a last goodbye with each and every one of them, have a impactful last message to everyone. My grandpa was in considerable pain during his latest episode partly caused by confusion of being in the hospital and not being able to get up and move around or even use the restroom. It felt torturous for him not to be able to use the restroom, where he was embarrased to pee in bed or into his diaper. I could see the agony in his face as he pleaded with nurses to let him use it, which they had to refuse because he needed to stay in bed with his IVs. I'd never really been at many hospital rooms before MJ's borken leg a couple years ago and this most recent time with my grandpa, but consider me not a fan: I'd rather be outside visiting universities and office parks. It is just a sad place to have to stay while being sick, and especially if it's something of a terminal illness, really pondering one's own mortality.
Fantasize on,
Robert Yan
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