Krish Parikh Week 14 - Mortality
Me and my grandfather.
Last Saturday, my parents went on their routine visit to my grandparents' place. What started as a 15 minute trip to drop off eggs, milk, and some vegetables took a sinister turn: an ambulance was called to rush my grandfather to the hospital.
The week before, my grandfather had gone through an open-heart surgery, a dangerous procedure where the chest is completely cut open and the heart is stopped. My entire family was nervous during the whole affair, and we cried with tears of joy when the doctors announced that the surgery was successful. We thought the health struggles that had plagued my grandfather for years were finally over, and we'd have many more years to make memories with him.
As my father walked up the stairs of my grandparents' house on Saturday, he found my grandfather in a gut-wrenching state. I will censor all of the details here, as they are quite graphic, but it was enough to make my Dad dial 911 immediately. We later discovered that my grandfather received a mysterious infection following his surgery that turned severe.
He fought as hard as he could, along with the best care we could find, but it wasn't enough to claim victory over nature's unyielding assault on his body. On Monday, my family received an end-of-life notice from Washington Hospital, and we rushed to spend the remaining time we could with him during visiting hours. As I walked into his intensive care unit, my eyes welled up with tears. Here was the man I looked up to my entire life laying on his deathbed, amid a cacophony of beeping noises and a seemingly unending amount of tubes punctured through his body.
When I visited him, my grandfather was in tremendous pain and barely able to maintain consciousness. I held his hand as I said my last words to him, and I was met with firm hand-squeezes and labored nods in response.
Looks like I'm crying now. That's a first for a blog post.
We all take the presence of the people around us largely for granted. The unfortunate truth about our lives is that there are no guarantees; there is an infinite number of forces outside our control. As mortals merely at the whims of the universe, we must remember that today may be our last, and if not ours, perhaps someone else's. Spend as much time as you can with those you love, and cherish your memories with them. You never know what can happen.
Krish,
ReplyDeleteI kid you not when I say that I'm crying after reading this blog post. I know that words like "I'm sorry" will not mean much from an online blog comment that you may just see as a byproduct of a mandatory assignment. That being said, I see you as a great guy with not much to dislike; I'm confident your grandfather was beyond blessed to have spent a portion of his life with a person like you.
Loss is perhaps the arch-nemesis of humanity itself. Looking back, I seem to remember you being a Star Wars fan. If so, I think you can agree that the Jedi are somewhat unrealistic human specimens in the sense that their foundational belief is that all loss can be overcome. Anakin was the only exception; he was the most like us humans in the real world. As humans, we simply fail to comprehend that at some point, the ability for us to make memories with certain people just — stops. It hurts us, because it's not just the person's life that fades away, it's the connection between yourself and them. The memories that were once defined by elation slowly become bitter reminders of what once was, and that feeling can eat away at a person for their entire life.
I really hope you do see this blog comment, because I don't want that to happen to you. I don't want that to happen to anyone. Once it does, you start to manifest guilt and attribute it to yourself. Which is crazy, because the spontaneity of death is uncontrollable and outside the realms of our control.
You're a insanely commendable classmate, and I definitely see you going to high places. From your tone in this blog post, you seem to be handling it pretty well. And I admire you for that. Krish, thank you for sharing this story with us. I'm sure your grandfather would be more than proud.
Sincerely,
Sean Wang
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteI've never really experienced a loss so close to me before, but a few years ago, I had a friend who lost a grandparent. That friend was really close to my family, and my mother had attended his grandma's funeral. My friend had told me the next day that my mom had cried the loudest. Her own parents, my maternal grandparents, had lived with us until I went to high school. They'd been there to help my mom take care of me and my brother while my dad was gone. Two years ago they went to live in China because they felt that they were unneeded and they preferred to spend their years in a place of familiarity. And my only hope is that when they do return to earth one day, I can be there to give the same love that you were able to give to your grandpa. I want to be there—remind grandma of the times we sang together. I want to be there—joke around with grandpa and boast about how good my Chinese has become. And when they close their eyes, I don't want loneliness to be the last thing they see.
ReplyDeleteMy friend's grandma's death a few years ago was something that really had me thinking about loss. And what I've come to is that if my parents were ever to die, I'd dwell on what they wanted the most. Mom and dad both love me and Ben the most and hope that we will live happy and easy lives. I wouldn't want to have their deaths make the two of us drown in grief, but I want to grieve in a way that makes them happy. The time we have together is precious, cherish it. I will too, and when that time comes few and far between let's love it even more.
Krish, your strong—stronger, and more alive than anyone I know. Live and engrave every lesson learned on your heart. Your grandpa was a brilliant man, live up to it.
Hi Krish,
ReplyDeleteWhen my grandpa passed away a couple years ago, my mom refused to let me see him in the hospital or during his funeral. When I asked my mom why, she told me something that has stuck with me since. She wanted me to remember my grandpa through my fondest memories of him and how I saw the last summer I spent with him. She wanted me to remember him smiling.
No words can bring you comfort; loss is a wound that can't just be healed. My first touch of loss was a very rude awakening that people really can die. But when my mom stopped me from seeing my grandfather, I realized something. Our loved ones may pass away, but our memories of them can stay with our hearts for as long as we hold on to them. And through those memories, they live on.
I don't know your relationship with you grandfather, but I do know this: your sadness means that you cared alot about him, and I'm sure he cared alot about you too. Your sadness means that with him, you were happy. And those memories of happiness is not, and will never be, something that the cycle of life can take away.
Although you may feel pain now, that pain only shows how much you miss him. I'm sure your grandfather is honored that you miss him.
Yi-Kuan C.
Hey Krish, what a heartbreaking blog post, I must say. I find myself a bit tearful now as well. I am so sorry that you lost your grandpa in the way that you did; I can't even imagine how that must have felt. Losing loved ones is probably one of the worst experiences any of us can have, but it's inevitable. When my grandpa passed away a few years back, I was more angry than sad; we all knew he was most likely going to pass peacefully, but then the one family member he despised the most (she had stolen from him and kept him away from his son) came to the hospital to "pay her respects." He ended up not being comfortable at all for his last few days. I completely agree; we should never take anyone for granted, because life is extremely unpredictable and things can go wrong any minute. We just have to be grateful to have what we have; there's no way to prepare for the unexpected. I'm so so sorry for your loss, and thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteHi Krish,
ReplyDeleteI am truly sorry for your loss and could not imagine what you are going through. I am sure you have had many wonderful memories with him that you won't be forgetting anytime soon. Your blog post this week had struck a bit close to home for me. I had lost my grandpa about two months ago and it was my first time losing somebody this close to me. It was hard for a good month. Every now and then I find myself tear up when I hear a sad song or see something that reminds me of him. But I know when time passes there will only be good memories left for me to remember my time with him. I'll tell you something my friend told me when I was coping. He would be so proud to know that you're doing well and staying strong.
Hi Krish,
ReplyDeleteI am sincerely sorry for your loss. I am ashamed for not having noticed the impact that such an emotional event has left on you. I think that your mindset toward this event is extremely admirable and I hope that you are successful in coping with such a huge loss. Loss is a greatly impactful event in everyone's lives, and something that we rarely consider on a day-to-day basis. When it comes, it is often sudden and unexpected, leaving a scar that becomes difficult to heal. I hope that you can gradually recover and heal.
Best wishes,
Raymond Yu
Hi Krish,
ReplyDeleteI really have no words for you. It is just so sad for something like this to happen to you. It is strange to say, but I have not really experienced anything like this before. I don't know what else to say about this, other than the fact that I hope you can recover and heal after this event.
Sincerely,
Vivan Waghela
Hey Krish
ReplyDeleteI would be lying if I said I wasn't crying a little too. This was such a raw blog post and I feel really grateful that you feel comfortable enough to share about this with all of us. I know this sounds obligatory, but genuinely I am so so sorry for your loss. It sucks to see the people we love go but there is strength in their memory and how we preserve it. I'm sure your grandfather would be proud to see you keeping his memory alive and I know he was as glad to have you in his life as you feel he was. This was a beautiful post and the picture of you both is so cute. You are so strong dude and I'm glad you are at a place where his passing has become in a way a testament to how much we should cherish all of our loved ones. Thank you for sharing and we are here for you <3