At the deathbed of my grandpa

Some of my thoughts on death

Recently, I thought about death again, because a person died, who had a big impact on people that are close to me, so I was passively involved in their mourning process, I felt their grief and love at the same time. It was overall a sad and beautiful experience.

It made me think about the most recent death that occurred in my family. My grandpa died about 5.5 years ago, just a couple of days before my PhD defense, making it impossible to travel to his funeral.

I visited him four-five months prior to his passing, I travelled to Poland to help my dad with my grandpa. His sister, my aunt, was taking the biggest share of taking care of my grandpa & my father went there to take away some of her burden, as he is living in Germany.

It was truly the first time I consciously was facing the process of dying. At that time my grandpa was already lying in bed only, barely eating & drinking, with some conscious moments here & there.

At times he would voice his wish to die & be with his wife again. Sometimes he would refuse to eat or drink, and other times he would seem to be better. He was 94 years old.

I remember one situation, that was tearing me apart, because I felt it was not right at all…