May 15, 2003
9:49 a.m.

My grandfather died yesterday. God, it makes it seem so real as I write it here. I was at work, when Carol came, and told me my Mom was on the phone, and she was crying. I picked up, and she told me that Pop, which is what I have always called my grandfather, had had a heart attack while he was out at the lake house. They had called an ambulance, and he had arrested one time in the ambulance, and they got him back. He arrested another four times at the Hart county hospital. They got him back each time. Against their better judgement, they told my aunt, who was with him, that he was fighting with all his might, and, if he had a chance at all, they were going to send him to Peidmont Hospital in Atlanta. She then told me that I needed to come home. I remember kind of numbly hanging up the phone, and looking at Dr. C, who happened to be standing beside me. I just shook my head, and said, I've got to go. Everyone kind of ran after me, and asked what happened. I briefly told them, and ran to my truck. I think I drove faster yesterday that I ever have in my life.

I met up with my Mom, and we drove to Piedmont. Once we got there, they told us that he was in the cadiac cath lab, so, we were thinking if he had made it there, maybe he had a chance. We sat there for over thirty minutes, when a man came out, and told us that my grandfather had not made it to the hospital, and, that instead, the helicopter had diverted to Gwinnett Medical. We were angry at being misinformed, all the time we spent at Piedmont, we could have been at Gwinnett. We called Gwinnett, and asked about his status. They told us he wasn't looking good, that he had arrested numerous times. We asked if they could just keep him alive until we got there. They said they would try, but, with the tone of thier voice, we knew he was either already gone, or was going to be soon. We all sped there. When we got there, they ushered us into a little room, and told us he hadn't made it. I looked at my grandmother, who has been disabled by a massive stroke while she was undergoing heart surgery. Pop has taken care of her for over five years now. Tending to her every need. She can't talk, except for a few words, walk, control her bladder, however, she does comprehend everything. I just went into her arms, she was crying, I was crying, my whole family was crying.

We talked to my aunt, who had been with him when he had his heart attack. Apparently, the night before, they had been talking about death, and how Pop should take it easy, and my grandfather said that he planned to live, until he died, and then he would quit. That's exactly what he did. He had just finished putting in a sidewalk down to the dock at the lake so my grandmother could go down there. He came back up, sat on a bench, and said he was hurting a little bit, and the rest you know.

We went back to see his body. His face was so swollen. He still had all his tubes in. He just didn't look like my grandfather. It couldn't be him. I had talked to him on the phone the night before, and he was fine. Giving me a hard time. I actually talked to him longer then than I normally do. Maybe, somehow, I kind of knew. I grabbed his hand, and it was so cold. I just put my head on his chest, and I cried. My Mom and I then drove his car back to his house, got out his phone book, and began to make calls. I finally had to leave the room, it was just too real.

My grandfather was such a great man. He died, just how he lived. Stubborn to the end. The doctors told us that he had a lot of fight, because, according to the textbooks, he should never have been brought back as many times as he was. He loved all of us so much. He always called me his baby. I just, I'm not sure how to act without him. One of the saddest things, he died on their anniversary, and, he will be burried on my aunts birthday. It just doesn't seem real. He was supposed to live forever. He was supposed to be here always. I guess, in a way he is hear, but, I sure am going to miss his hugs, and words of wisdom.

The world lost a great man.

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