I’m sitting on the edge of the bed of a man who is imprisoned there. I look into his wrinkled face. He is on oxygen after a long day of traveling. When his eyes are opened, he looks settled yet discontented. When closed, he seems more at rest though I can hear his labored breaths. I fight back the tears as I realize how upset I am with all of this. I don’t like it. I’m sad, heartbroken, frustrated, and powerless. I want to change the situation but there is nothing I can do.

The man in the bed is my granddaddy. He suffered a stroke on August 9, 2010. That stroke should have carried him to his death, but a surprisingly successful surgery brought him back to life, though one drastically different than what he had lived the 83 years prior.

My whole life my granddaddy has been strong, full of life, and as goofy as they come! Now he is weak, barely living, and quiet. It hurts my heart. The last time I saw him healthy was before I left for Africa in June 2009. So many wonderful memories. A week before the stroke, he won a bronze medal in the Senior Olympics. He was always active, playing golf, meeting his friends for breakfast at McDonald’s, traveling around with my granny and after she died, his second wife… who he married at 81! J

Today, Mom was finally able to arrange for him to be transferred from the nursing home in west Tennessee to one here in town. We are excited to have him here and to be able to check on him regularly, but it doesn’t ease the pain of remembering how things used to be. The man who used to walk on his hands, have all of the grandkids walk on his back, and dole out great shoulder massages, is now paralyzed on his right side and can hardly do anything for himself. He told great stories (usually on himself) and would easily have us all in stitches. Now, it is difficult to understand the words coming out of his mouth. Since I was around 10 years old, he and I have had a running joke including a special nickname we have for each other… but I’m not sure if he remembers or understands it anymore.

I think what hurts us all the most is that if Granddaddy were in his right mind, he would be absolutely miserable in that bed. Aside from his narcoleptic tendencies, which we as grandchildren always got a kick out of, Granddaddy was the epitome of energy. He could dance circles around me! The thought of staying in bed all day would be so out of character for him. Maybe it’s a blessing that his mind was also affected by the stroke. We look for blessings to try to bring some peace to the situation for ourselves. But most importantly, I worry about him and his happiness and contentment. Is he happy? How could he be content in that state? Which leads me to conclude that mentally, he isn’t capable of fully processing everything like he used to. And again, that is probably a blessing.

So here he lies. I pray that our visits will do him good. At least now we can see him so much more, without a six-hour drive between us. His smile is still so pleasant. That is about all the emotion he can muster, and it means the world to me. He’ll kiss me goodbye and tell me he loves me. I’m thankful for that. And I’m thankful for all of the sweet and hilarious memories. But I still don’t like this. I have never really minded personally getting older, even with the big 3-0 quickly approaching. But I don’t like the wrinkles that I see time putting on those I love. My granddaddy is my last living grandparent by blood. If I have kids one day, chances are they will never meet a great-grandparent. And I certainly don’t even want to think about my own parents getting old. I can’t even imagine what it is like for my mom to have to care for her father in this way. I suppose it is just difficult for me to reconcile all of this in my mind—especially when I’m sitting at his bedside, thinking that this is all wrong. Yes, I know this is life. But sometimes, I have to admit, I don’t like it. And yes, I know that one day I will find myself in a place where there is no sadness or suffering. What a glorious day that will be. For now, God give me the strength, wisdom, and peace I need for each new day.