Chapter Three: Righteous
March 23, 2008, Cincinnati’s Hope Medical Center
As I slowly approach the room, I was nervous yet determined to get it right. Times like this remind me of how fragile life is and how life is short. Sooner or later, we will all be like grandpa. It must have hurt to keep a secret for so long.
As I gently hold onto his hand, I scan around the room and see that he is hooked onto these bulbous machines monitoring his vitals. He is falling in and out of consciousness.
Sometimes I like to think about the past. I like to think about what once was and what could have been, but sometimes it’s just plain hard. It’d be nice to go back and relive some moments, some moments I wish I could redo.
Thinking about the ones I love, like grandpa. Wishing that I’d relive some moments with him, but not like this. In better times. I’d love to catch up on what once was and what could have been. It’s just so damn hard to see him like this. It’s so damn hard too see someone aging and hooked onto machines.
My thoughts start to shift away as I notice grandpa starting to move. Grandpa, weak and barely audible, whispered: Sometimes life doesn’t treat you right. You try and find your purpose in life. Life ain’t fair sometimes. In the end you got to find your purpose. In life there are lessons learned, lessons taught, lessons passed on. In the end you have to believe you did right.
I whispered: you did right.