Grandpa?

So...my grandfather had a stroke two weeks ago...while he was on his annual 'run-away-from-winter' road trip to California. He was in the ICU for some time and one of my aunts flew down to be with my grandmother. I called my grandmother a few days after the incident, and she told me she was fine, and if this is 'God's will' then so be it. I was taken aback by her calm demeanor...thinking it was strangely brave, in a sense. I talked to my father, who seemed more concerned when the possible inconvenience of maybe having to take time off and fly down to California and drive back their RV. He acted completely unaffected by the fact that his father may or may not ever mentally bounce back from this tragedy.

Grandpa was flown back to Spokane four days ago...and I was absolutely terrified to go visit him. I had questioned about his condition and had pretty much come to the understanding that his stroke was sever and left him partially paralyzed on his right side, he could squeeze hands, couldn't quite swallow, but had been taken off the respirator and was no longer being sedated and he was in a wheel chair to help with his muscle tone. I understood that grandpa is not 'grandpa'...at least not yet. Drew, who also had talked to my father and mother about grandpa, had drawn a completely different conclusion about grandpa's health. He expected to walk into a room where grandpa was wheeling around in a wheel chair...tired...with slightly restricted movement. My understanding was accurate.

I was only able to stay in the room for a minute...maybe two, if time stopped the way my heart did. He saw me, tried to say something, but was so exhausted he couldn't keep his eyes open. I wanted to be strong, and tell him I loved him and that he was the strongest man I've known in my life and that I admired him for so many thing and that if anyone has the strength to get through this, it was him...but all I managed was the part that I loved him, before my emotions ruled out anything other than tears and sobs.

I talked to my mother later that day, who laughed about how grandma has to pull him up in the wheel chair and scream at him to keep him awake...I suppose the humor was lost on me.

To sum up...I understand that this kind of shit happens in life and it's horrible and tragic and sad and heartbreaking...but I can't wrap my mind around how insensitive my family is acting and the way they're treating this situation...like it is what it is and really no big thing....but it's grandpa...we lost grandpa...and his return is impending, and is in no way a guarantee. Why is that 'okay' for everyone?!? Are they devoid of any amount of sentiment at all?

I miss you grandpa, and I hope and pray that you will have the strength and grace to rise through this...and I love you very much!

Grandpa and I at the 09 family reunion at Loon Lake.