The Lady and Her Poodle: A Post I Don't Want to Write

I hoped that I had longer before writing this post. I hoped we had more happy days together. However, it was not meant to be. My precious Grandaddy was welcomed to Heaven on December 3. He suffered a serious fall the morning of the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and it was such as grevious injury that he could not recover from it.

We had a few precious moments together over the last few days of his life. When we were waiting to be admitted to Hunstville Hospital, he continually pushed my bangs out of my face until I finally gave up and pinned them out of the way. Looking good didn't matter if it made him happy. He was in pain, but still making me laugh.

His grip was so strong even until the end. He, Grams and I were always hand-holders, so I held his hand since there was nothing else I could do for him. There's never been anything more peaceful than sitting on the swing on the patio holding his hand. When I couldn't take all the people in the house being loud and moving things around, I went downstairs to the swing and stayed until it got dark.

He gave me the sweetest final memory of him the last day he was conscious. I was holding his right hand at his bedside when he reached out with his left hand, pulled my head down, kissed me and told me he loved me. I'm so grateful that he had the presence of mind to tell me he loved me one last time.

I accepted the end result as soon as I knew how bad his injury was. As I told someone, I love(d) him enough to let him go. He wasn't going to get better and I didn't want to watch him suffer if it was in my control. I made sure that he was as comfortable as possible and made sure I told him I loved him--practically with every breath.

I told him this and I've told others--If I was only destined to have one Grandaddy on Earth, I was given the very best. Even through the heartache of the past few weeks, I've been able to reminisce and share wonderful memories of time spent with my sweet Grandaddy.