Hard lessons

I got to talk with Grace for almost an hour after my last post. It was nice to talk to someone about Papa that wasn't there at the hospital with me dealing with the same emotions. I felt guilty, though, as if I was burdening her with all of my troubles. She said she didn't mind. I only wished that we could've talked longer, but my phone battery was almost dead.

My shift with Papa was long and relatively quiet, aside from the beeping heart monitor and the sound of his snoring, which thankfully was muffled by his oxygen mask. I sat at his side, staring at him, recollecting all that time he spent with me at my father's bedside fifteen years ago.

I guess it was just that I was young, or that I didn't understand the gravity of the situation, or that I was in denial...but I was pretty much the only one holding out any hope that my father would recover from his injuries. I thought he was asleep, and that he'd wake up at any minute. The truth was that he was brain dead. He lingered on life support for three days before they decided that nature should run its course.

I wasn't there that morning when his body gave out on him. He died at 7:30, and I woke up at home around two hours later. The first person I found that morning was my mother, who broke the news. Soon after, Papa walked in the door, and look on his face was what really made it hit me...hard. All three of us sat on the couch and had a big cry.

I guess it's tragic irony that I now find myself sitting at Papa's bedside, knowing everything that is going on, knowing he'll probably never leave this hospital alive, and that a time will come very soon that I have to say goodbye.

Nana came in this morning to relieve me of my shift. I went to the family waiting room to get some sleep. I woke up a few hours later and went right back to Papa's room. My uncle had just shown up, and Nana was getting hungry, so I offered to buy her lunch down at the hospital cafeteria.

On our way out into the hallway, I saw Grace sticking her head into the waiting room. I called out her name and she came running to greet me. She was worried that I hadn't answered my phone. I had turned it off to save the battery. Little did I know it would bring this level of panic in her mind. After an awkward introduction to Grace, I asked Nana if I could meet her in the cafeteria in a few minutes.

Grace and I grabbed a cup of vending machine coffee and headed outside for a smoke. She asked how I was holding up, and I told her the truth. I felt like shit. I wished there was something I could do to make myself feel as bad physically as I do emotionally. That way, I could do something about the pain, other than wait for the hurt to go away. Grace gave me a big hug, than punched me in the gut. She told me she pulled her punch, which I'm glad she did because it still knocked the wind out of me. She did it as a joke and as a lesson, to be careful what I wish for.

I walked her to her car and gave her a hug goodbye, and she countered with a kiss. Not exactly how I'd picture our first kiss-under these circumstances-but it was nice. It brought to mind all those times back in high school when we almost kissed, but got interrupted by some outside forces (cough, cough, Jeff, cough, cough). For the second and a half that the kiss lasted, I completely forgot my troubles. As soon as it was over, it all came back, particularly the fact that Nana is waiting for me in the cafeteria.

I said goodbye to Grace and saw her on her way, then ran back inside to meet with Nana. Boy, she was full of questions about Grace. I told her she was a friend from high school I've been talking to a lot recently. This lead to a long discussion about my ex-fiancee, and the real reasons behind the breakup. Nana wouldn't buy it that it was the cheating issue. There had to be something else in her opinion.

She was kinda right. There were a lot of differences that we were just too chickenshit to confront. Even though we were engaged, deep down she really didn't want to get married. Kids were another matter. She wanted to have kids, but I was the holdout on that front. I guess I've always lacked the maturity and wisdom I feel is needed to be responsible for another human being. Later, after being pumped for more information about Grace, Nana pointed out the irony that I am, in a manner of speaking, dating a single mother. Oh, brother.