End of an era

My Oma died on Wednesday night in her sleep.

She was 85.

I was shocked to hear of her death, but not surprised. I mean she was old, but she was very stubborn. I think she just gave up.

After ringing some of her friends to tell them the bad news, they told me that she had already phoned them days before to say goodbye.

"But Poek, where are you going?", "I thought she meant she was going on a trip..."
and
"She told me she only had a week to go."

She was physically incapacitated, but her mind was still sharp, and she couldn't stop thinking about things. She had a lot of time on her hands, and it drove her to despair.

The last time I spoke to my Oma, in February, we were talking about my father. She hadn't seen him since 1985. And she confessed how much she wanted to see him before she died. And I could see it in her eyes that it caused her a lot of heartache to know that her only son wouldn't acknowledge her. It affected her deeply.
I wanted to make that happen for her, but I haven't seen my dad for almost the same time, and I knew that there was nothing that I could do to change the situation.

She told me to write to her, and I never got around to it. And I feel a bit guilty.

When I rang my Grampa (on my mum's side), he didn't sound well, coughing and hacking into the mouthpiece.

I have since found out that he has gone into hospital with advanced asbestosis.

My mum says that he has just had the realization that things are going to get progressively worse, and last night, he had the feeling that he was drowning, and asked the doctor to give him a massive dose of sleeping pills. To get it over with.

I am just about to go and visit my Grampa, and I don't know if I'll see him again. I don't know what to do or how to act, and this is a lot to handle right about now.