I really wish I didn't have to write this post, but I feel I would be doing myself a disservice by not writing up the last couple of weeks. After my last few posts being really positive, upbeat and mainly about me excited for the future, happy with life and travelling, this is going to be much more sombre and for me, heart-breaking.
Life has a way of punching you in the face when everything is going well.
I'm struggling to even to write this.
Things were going well last weekend, I was having an amazing time in Vienna, as you will see from my Vienna post, but then I got that phone call that pulled my feet out from under me. You know the feeling when the whole world seems to swallow you whole. I was standing in the middle of the street in Vienna when my mum called to say that my 92-year old grandfather, otherwise known as 'Pappy' was back in hospital, and this time it was it. He had been in and out of hospital since September last year, and for a man of his age it wasn't surprising. Yet, when you are thousands of miles away and not coming home for two days, what do you do? I was on standby, ready to rush to the airport to come home early, but luckily that wasn't needed. As soon as I landed on Monday I drove straight from Egham to Bath hospital, pretending to myself that I wasn't going to say goodbye, although I knew that deep down that's what I was heading for.
I like to think that, having seen all of my cousins, he was waiting for me. I know he was in pain, and it wouldn't be fair to him to have wanted him to be around for as long as possible, but the selfish part of me wanted just that. Yet after spending all day sat at his bedside on Tuesday and then heading back home late that night, I woke up early on Wednesday morning to the news that he had slipped away in the night.
Once again, I'm stuck in that feeling of things being not quite real, there's all the talk of funerals and estates etc. and what will happen to my grandma now and it's all so overwhelming. Getting to 92 is an achievement in itself, and Pappy could not have had a better life, a happy 62-year marriage, three children, 9 grandchildren, a wonderful home, and even being in the navy in WWII. But still, at the end of the day, it is sad. It saddens me because, after such an amazing life, he had to end it in pain, but also, selfishly I know, it makes me think about my own mortality and that fucking scares me too. I know it has to happen to all of us, but that doesn't mean I'm not terrified.
I know this is going to happen more and more as I get older now, the goodbyes are going to become more common, but this doesn't mean that they are going to get any easier.
So all I wanted to really say way, I'll see you later Pappy, I love you, we all miss you so much and I know I'll see you soon.
Have a good week my loves!
Lots of Love, Kate xxx
Life has a way of punching you in the face when everything is going well.
I'm struggling to even to write this.
Things were going well last weekend, I was having an amazing time in Vienna, as you will see from my Vienna post, but then I got that phone call that pulled my feet out from under me. You know the feeling when the whole world seems to swallow you whole. I was standing in the middle of the street in Vienna when my mum called to say that my 92-year old grandfather, otherwise known as 'Pappy' was back in hospital, and this time it was it. He had been in and out of hospital since September last year, and for a man of his age it wasn't surprising. Yet, when you are thousands of miles away and not coming home for two days, what do you do? I was on standby, ready to rush to the airport to come home early, but luckily that wasn't needed. As soon as I landed on Monday I drove straight from Egham to Bath hospital, pretending to myself that I wasn't going to say goodbye, although I knew that deep down that's what I was heading for.
I like to think that, having seen all of my cousins, he was waiting for me. I know he was in pain, and it wouldn't be fair to him to have wanted him to be around for as long as possible, but the selfish part of me wanted just that. Yet after spending all day sat at his bedside on Tuesday and then heading back home late that night, I woke up early on Wednesday morning to the news that he had slipped away in the night.
Once again, I'm stuck in that feeling of things being not quite real, there's all the talk of funerals and estates etc. and what will happen to my grandma now and it's all so overwhelming. Getting to 92 is an achievement in itself, and Pappy could not have had a better life, a happy 62-year marriage, three children, 9 grandchildren, a wonderful home, and even being in the navy in WWII. But still, at the end of the day, it is sad. It saddens me because, after such an amazing life, he had to end it in pain, but also, selfishly I know, it makes me think about my own mortality and that fucking scares me too. I know it has to happen to all of us, but that doesn't mean I'm not terrified.
I know this is going to happen more and more as I get older now, the goodbyes are going to become more common, but this doesn't mean that they are going to get any easier.
So all I wanted to really say way, I'll see you later Pappy, I love you, we all miss you so much and I know I'll see you soon.
Have a good week my loves!
Lots of Love, Kate xxx
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| Lots of Love, Desmond Rae Harris 5 December 1924 - 8 February 2017 |