My Papa Jim
Oct 03 '09
The Bottom Line Losing a loved one is never easy. It brings a lot of emotions and thoughts to the surface. Here are mine about my grandfather who passed away October 3, 2009
My Papa Jim
This morning when I woke up it was a day like any other day. Except it wasn’t. It was Saturday and my son was home with me and I had to work. It was also my brother’s 31st birthday and my sister in law’s 28th birthday. As I got ready for work I actually took the time and got all dolled up. The works – full face of makeup as I would be celebrating my sister in law’s birthday that night (and my brother’s the following day). It had been awhile since I’d done a full face of make up and it made me feel happy.
Then my Grandmother (mom’s mom who we call “Gran”) called. Not unusual. I talk to her at least once a day and I work for a business her and my Grandfather (mom’s step-dad who we call “Papa”) own so I see her almost every day, too. I figured she was going to see when I’d be in, or ask me to go get change when I got work. That wasn’t why she called.
She told me that my mom had been trying to call me (my cell phone was turned to vibrate and was in the kitchen so I didn’t realize that). Gran then told me that my Papa Jim (mom’s dad) had died early this morning. That wasn’t shocking. He’d been given a terminal diagnosis months ago and we all knew it was just a matter of time. We’d been down to see him a few times and honestly I felt as ready as I think is possible that he would pass away. Still I felt something inside of me sink when she told me and I felt bad for my brother that our Papa Jim passed away on his birthday.
Then she said the words “but that’s not all”. I didn’t have time to think before she said there was a fire. He had burned along with his two small dogs in a fire in his motor home (where he lived). I couldn’t think and for a few seconds I couldn’t speak. We ended our conversation and all I could think was I need to get into work. I need to leave or I’m going to be late.
I hung up the phone and broke down. I could not shake the images popping into my head of my frail, little old Papa Jim in a fire. Burnt. And his two dogs! The images and the thoughts were horrifying. I couldn’t stop thinking of my poor mom who has always been such a Daddy’s Girl and how terrible this has to be for her. I knew there was no way possible I could call her. If I were to call her, there is no way I would be able to go in to work and I needed to go in to work. My mom doesn’t text, but I texted her so she would know I knew what had happened.
I sent two texts. The first read: “Talked to Gran. I love you. I have to go to work. I’ll call when I get off. If I talk now I don’t think I’ll be able to work.” And the second just: “I love you mom.” I didn’t know what else to say. I felt like I should call her but I just couldn't.
I pulled it together as quickly as possible and took my son to his grandparents (my in laws) where he was going to spend the day while I was at work. I told my mother in law what had happened and that I wouldn’t be able to attend the birthday dinner celebration for my sister in law. I don’t think I could have made it through it – and even if I could have – I would have been a horrible downer for them.
Apparently I am the Queen of Denial as I was able to get through work without any real problems. I just kept telling myself that I just had to make it to five o’clock. Of course we ended up staying open extra late and I didn’t even make it home until 7 p.m. I called my mom and of course burst into tears. We talked and I have to say she is doing amazingly well all things considered.
I found that no one knows really how Papa Jim died. He could have had another stroke and been unable to move. He could have passed away while smoking. We just don’t know and we never will. We do know he was most likely smoking and that’s what started the fire. We know his older dog that needed to be put down (she had a huge tumor) never moved from his side and we know the younger dog tried to get out. I know that there was not enough left for them to determine cause of death which only leaves more horrifying images in my mind. The fire department said if he was still alive in the blaze that he would have only survived two breaths with how thick and black the smoke was. In a way that’s comforting. But in another way besides feeling very sad I feel a tinge of anger, too.
This was his choice. He choose this for his last days. He had managed to get out of the hospital that was keeping him as he would not be compliant enough to stay. He was too high of a risk for them to keep there since he would not behave. Then he managed to get out of his Hospice agreement. He wanted to be home. And he went home. He went home without any oxygen, without any medications. At that point I’m sure he only had a matter of hours anyway.
He lasted about 36 hours once out of their care.
I get that he wanted his last days to be on his terms. I’m sure I’d feel the same way. But he had started a fire before in his motor home – how could they even allow him to be on his own? They all knew this! I don’t understand. I just don’t. How was it ok for him to go home, alone, with no medications, no oxygen?
Is this like the whole “right to die” thing? I have mixed feelings about the right to die. On the one hand I agree… on the other…. maybe I’m being selfish? But I can’t help but think that no one should die like this. No one. It’s so horrifying. And I can’t help but think what if he had managed to take others along with him. He was a risk not only to himself, but since he had accidentally set fire to his motor home before – he was a risk to everyone living in that RV Park. And I can't help but think no matter what -- he did not really want to die like that. I know he didn't plan it. I know he didn't do it on purpose. But I also know he had to realize it was a possibility.
My mom's boyfriend said that these were his (Papa Jim's) terms. He got want he wanted - the whole being home alone part with no one looking after him. While I think everyone should be able to have that at the end of their lives it doesn't make what actually happened any less horrific.
I feel terrible for my mom who had moved down there to take care of him only for him to become angry with her and have no contact with her for the last several days of his life. I feel horrible for my Papa Jim’s neighbor that had to be held back from opening the door to his motor home while it was engulfed in flames. I feel horrible for all my Papa Jim’s neighbor’s who had their hoses out trying to get the fire under control before the fire department arrived. I feel horrible for my mom’s boyfriend, Scott, who had to bury the remains of both dogs because Animal Control would not come and pick them up even after repeated calls. I feel horrible for everyone who had to see my Papa Jim’s motor home after the fire was extinguished; at that point there was no roof and it appeared to be gutted.
As for me I just feel sad and horrified. So long as I can keep the images out of my head that keep popping in ~ I’ll be ok. I can only imagine that had I been there and seen it for myself that I wouldn't be able to sleep without having a nightmare anytime soon. It's weird. I had thought I had gotten to the point where I was ok with him passing away. But certainly not like this.
To those wanting to know what’s going to happen now – the remains of the motor home will be taken away come Monday. Sometime in the next week or so my mom and Scott (her boyfriend) will be up here with Papa Jim’s ashes (I’m not even going to ask how they got them or how they even know these are “him”). Papa Jim wanted to be cremated and have his ashes released near the Lighthouse here. After that, we’ll all get together for a dinner to share our good, happy and funny memories of my Papa Jim.
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Member: Melissa S.
Location: California
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Caught up on SAP's - if you need something added e-mail me.
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