2008 Woodie Awards
Grief counseling through Hospice, SSU helps with loss
Adrienne Smith, Staff Writer
Issue date: 5/17/06 Section: Opinion
Last fall my Grandpa passed away. It's a naive thing to say, but I thought he would live forever; at least to see me graduate, and meet my future children. He was truly the most remarkable person I had ever known. How far I am in this life I owe entirely to him, because without him our family never would have survived. Raised by a single mother, my Grandpa was the only father figure I ever had.
My education was extremely important to him, when I was in high school I used to whine about having to get up in the morning and he would just say, "Fine then young lady don't go, but do you really want to scrub toilets the rest of your life for a living?" Not that there is anything against cleaning ladies but he made a good point. I wanted something better for myself. Now as a senior in college every time I get a little lazy or feel like giving up, I have him in the back of mind telling me to finish.
His death happened over six months ago and still there is not one single day that passes that I don't think of him. Grandpa was a proud person, no one in the family was aware of his sickness until his final month when he was hospitalized. Watching the strongest person you know grow weaker each day is beyond the hardest thing I had ever faced. I spent a lot of time holding his hand and talking to him but, most of the time I don't even think he knew I was in the room.
When he finally passed the feeling was so surreal that upon hearing the news, I couldn't cry, my whole body just went completely numb. I threw a few things in a bag and drove straight down to San Luis Obispo to be with my Mom and Grandma. The ride down was exhausting- all by myself with The Judds (One of Grandpa's favorites) blasting through the speakers, I felt like I was dying inside but the tears weren't forming.
It felt so weird, why couldn't I cry? What was my problem? I felt immediate guilt and an unbelievable sense of denial. I finally called a counselor and she said that I was going through "a state of shock."
My education was extremely important to him, when I was in high school I used to whine about having to get up in the morning and he would just say, "Fine then young lady don't go, but do you really want to scrub toilets the rest of your life for a living?" Not that there is anything against cleaning ladies but he made a good point. I wanted something better for myself. Now as a senior in college every time I get a little lazy or feel like giving up, I have him in the back of mind telling me to finish.
His death happened over six months ago and still there is not one single day that passes that I don't think of him. Grandpa was a proud person, no one in the family was aware of his sickness until his final month when he was hospitalized. Watching the strongest person you know grow weaker each day is beyond the hardest thing I had ever faced. I spent a lot of time holding his hand and talking to him but, most of the time I don't even think he knew I was in the room.
When he finally passed the feeling was so surreal that upon hearing the news, I couldn't cry, my whole body just went completely numb. I threw a few things in a bag and drove straight down to San Luis Obispo to be with my Mom and Grandma. The ride down was exhausting- all by myself with The Judds (One of Grandpa's favorites) blasting through the speakers, I felt like I was dying inside but the tears weren't forming.
It felt so weird, why couldn't I cry? What was my problem? I felt immediate guilt and an unbelievable sense of denial. I finally called a counselor and she said that I was going through "a state of shock."