“Hallo?”
The next generation... Great-Grand-Father
“C’est fini!”
This short exchange of words signalled the end of a lifetime of love and affection. My Grand-Father passed away after a month in hospital following a stroke.
I had gone to see him in hospital shortly after his arrival there. The initial shock of seeing this old man asleep in his bed I sat down next to him and held his hand. While alone with him in the room I thanked him for having been there to raise me with his wife. if it hadn’t been for them taking me into their home and giving me their unconditional love and support I certainly would never have become the man I am today.
I do miss my weekly chat with him on the phone even if in the last few months prior to his stroke he was repeating himself a lot and a number of times he couldn’t quite remember who he was talking to. Was it his son or his grand-son? Well although genetically I am the latter, our shared lives and affection made me the former in his eyes.
I still have some of the letters he sent me while I was studying abroad. Quite a few of them start with “Cher Fils” (Dear son). Already then it was a tear jerking opening! I read one of them a few months ago and the flood gates opened. I guess my bladder is just too close to my eyes. His writing style was very easy-going, he spoke of their daily activities, his activities in the garden, their encounters with my friends and/or their parents. In other words he made me part of their daily routine. And I loved reading those long letters. They didn’t help in making me feel less home-sick but they gave me the strength I needed to complete my studies.
I wanted to show them that they were right to have supported me all those years, that I would succeed in whatever I took on. That I DO NOT QUIT.
He never spoke to me in his hospital bed, the stroke had affected the right side of his body and his speech. But I know he understood everything I told him as on my penultimate visit to him I told him to behave himself and not charm the nurses. He smiled! Well not the teeth showing smile but the barely visible one that only rarely he displayed.
He never woke again after that. He didn’t need to any more, he’d done all he could do in one life time.
I don’t think I’ll ever have times where I won’t miss him or my Grand-Mother. But that’s OK: I can always walk down memory lane.
Today, he would be 90 years old… Que Dieu te garde mon p’tit Grand-Pere.
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