This morning my grandfather died.
I just found out a little while ago.
Strange how I don't really feel crushed by that.
He was very sick for the past two years. He had cancer. Lately, the only medicine he took was painkillers. And even they did not help.
He was deteriorating in front of our eyes from a strong, capable man to a blubbering, aggressive child. It was horrible to watch.
He was in constant pain. He could not sleep at night or at day. He could not walk anymore.
He told me the last time I was home, in one of his more lucid moments that he prays God will take him soon, because he couldn’t take it anymore. He was a very proud man and it pained him to not be able to wash himself or dress himself. He couldn’t take the pain, and he couldn’t take what he was becoming. He couldn’t take the fact of his mind slipping away. He could feel it, of course, and that scared and horrified him – such a man, who always had a strong grip on life, now regressing into the past and not knowing which day it is, or in which city he’s at (he traveled a lot and lived in different cities, just like my father and me. It seems constant movement is in our genes.).
So now he got his wish – God has taken him.
I try to remember him not as he was during his disease, but as he was when he was healthy.
Very proud, very dominating person. A regular patriarch :), my granddad. Loved to laugh and make jokes. Loved to tease my brother and me. Was a great fan of our soccer club, Hajduk. Never missed a game. Once, long ago, he took my grandmother to Belgrade (during communist times) to see a soccer game Hajduk vs. Crvena Zvezda. She got him in a fight :). She insulted a Serb, the Serb insulted her back, and granddad had to defend his wife’s honor. Such a chevalier :). And a hard working man. He earned the money to build our home. And very, very emotional. He loved us all deeply.
So that’s how I’ll remember him – playing cards with his friends, cheering his team on in front of the TV, giving me advice on life while drinking coffee, teasing my brother at Christmas lunches, looking over my grandmother’s shoulder while she was cooking, driving his old Yugo, digging in the garden.
That was my granddad. A great guy.
I hope he’s doing great, wherever he may be now.
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