How I Lost My Grandfather in Five Days
Who could have imagined that COVID-19 would steal my world from me?
Today is my grandfather’s second death anniversary, and I’m sitting in my grandfather’s room with tears. The pain feels fresh as if it all happened just yesterday. Every corner speaks of the love and bond we shared.
COVID-19 wasn’t just a global headline for me but was a heartbreaking personal loss. It’s the reason behind the empty chair in our family gatherings and the silence in this room. I lost my hero. My grandfather — the pillar of my life.
An Unbreakable Bond
My grandfather was my ultimate support. We lived on the same street, which made our bond even stronger. Every morning, he’d drop me off at school, and every evening, we’d share stories of our day. His house was my second home, a place where laughter, warmth, and wisdom filled the air.
He always told me, “You have two dads, so you never have to worry.” Those words meant the world to me. Everything felt right with him by my side. Whenever I faced challenges, he was there, guiding and supporting me.
Covid-19 Positive
One afternoon, after finishing my online classes, I saw my mom crying. My heart sank as I walked up to her, asking what was wrong. She told me that my grandfather had tested positive for COVID-19.
This news was devastating, knowing my grandfather’s existing health conditions — a heart patient with a history of bypass surgery and asthma. I tried comforting my mom, telling her, “He’ll get through this, just like he’s gotten through everything else.”
Inside, though, I was scared. The disease that was making headlines around the world had now reached my family. It was no longer just news to me; it was a direct threat to someone I deeply loved.
Quarantine Routine
We took every precaution when we visited him, making sure he was safe. Grandpa didn’t want to go to the hospital. He believed that people who went there didn’t come back. So, we brought the doctor home instead of taking him to a hospital.
The doctor used to come, check on Grandpa, and prescribe him all the medicines he needed. We communicated through gestures and muffled words via his window. He would often be seated by the window when we arrived, waiting for us. Despite his condition, he always put on a brave face.
He’d ask about our day, joke around, and remind us to take care. These moments, though short, became the highlight of our days during those challenging times. We would bring him his favorite meals, fresh fruits, and homemade stew.
His Condition Got Worse
The fourth day of our visit was different. Grandpa wasn’t at his usual spot by the window. Instead, all we heard were his weak coughs from inside, each one louder and more painful than the last.
Ignoring all precautions, we rushed into his room. His condition had worsened, and it was clear he needed medical help immediately. I could see the fear in his eyes, but even then, he tried to reassure us.
During the ambulance ride, every minute felt like an hour. My heart raced, clinging to hope. Hope that he would recover, hope that our family would laugh together again, and hope that this nightmare would end. All we could do was trust the doctors and pray for his strength.
A Night of Anxiety
That night at the hospital was one of the longest nights of my life. We weren’t allowed inside the COVID ward, so we could only wait anxiously in the corridor.
The sterile hospital lights and the distant sounds of medical equipment only added to the tense atmosphere. Every time a nurse or doctor walked by, my heart would skip a beat, hoping for some positive news.
Dad tried to stay strong for all of us. Being a doctor himself, he knew the challenges better than anyone. Still, I could see the worry in his eyes, the silent pain he felt as both a son and a medical professional. He kept repeating, “We have to hope. He’s a fighter.”
The Painful Goodbye
Around 4 a.m., a doctor approached us. I could tell from his expression that the news wasn’t good. He informed us that Grandpa had passed away. It felt like the ground had been pulled from beneath my feet. The realization hit hard. My protector was gone.
The memories of all the times we had spent together, the lessons he taught, and the love he gave all came flooding back. It was a painful goodbye, one that left a void in our hearts that could never be filled.
When days get tough, I find comfort in the memories I shared with Grandpa. I often visit his room, which still feels so much like him. Every corner, every item, tells a story of a life well-lived.
He left a special red diary for me, filled with his wisdom and guidance. Whenever I feel lost or need advice, I turn its pages. It’s like he’s still here with me, guiding me through life.
I’m sharing our story as a tribute to my grandfather and everyone who has lost someone dear to COVID. I want you to know that you’re not alone in your grief. The pain, the memories, the void left behind — I understand.
Let’s find comfort in remembering our loved ones and their impact on our lives.
