There was a man that came to the orchard the other day to get some fruit trees. Obviously he had not been around in quite a few years because we do not sell fruit trees anymore. This man, I think his name was Mr. Baker, decided since he could not find anyone that he would inquire about his purchase with my Great Uncle Kenneth, who lived up above the store in the attic apartment.
When the man walked up the stairs and knocked on the door, he received no response, but heard the TV on very loudly. When he entered the room he found what he thought to be a manikin, hunched over a reclining chair in the middle of the one room apartment. "Is this a joke?", the Mr. Baker thought to himself. In just seconds Mr. Baker realized by the smell, flies, blood all over the floor, and the very bloated and rotting man with his pants half off that this certainly was not a joke, but a death!
I don't know how the rest of the story went down other than the police came with an investigator, and then the funeral home came and picked up his body. I was there when they brought his body down. We were urged not to look, and all I could smell was something that resembled manure and dead animal reeking out from under the sheet he was covered in. That poor funeral home guy had to drive all the way to Ortonville with that horrible smell!
We don't know how my uncle died, maybe the heat, maybe a heart attack, maybe he was just old. All we know is he was dead for a few days and was mostly unrecongnizable due to the decomposition and bugs. My grandma, his sister, was/is very upset by the whole thing. I can understand why because she has looked after him for many years. She loved him. We had to tell my granpa too, and we could tell it upset him as well.
Speaking of grandpa... He is declining very slowly. The doctors and nurses say he is still alive because of his strong heart and body systems. He was in such great shape from working the fields his entire life. He is drugged up, and for the most part sleeping. We can tell though that he hears us and many times understands through the morphine what is going on. Sometimes he'll smile or wink or lift his eyebrows while we talk to him. It's comforting to know he appreciates our visits.
I am tired. This whole ordeal is dragging on and on. I love my grandpa, yet it is so hard for me to see him suffer. I don't want to say I wish he were dead, but it is so hard to see him in this condition. He is a prisoner in his own body at this point. He is not strong enough to move, but he has a mind and heart that love and long to be somewhere other than where he is right now. And he can't even express that to us. We can only tell by the looks he gives us. I wonder if we took him home for a day if he'd let go. Maybe he's waiting for us to take him home... Last week he did say he was ready to go home.
I am heading to hospice right now to see how things are going after the news of my uncle. Please pray that I have strength and joy in these crappy times. Pray that I am a comfort to my family, especially my grandma, and that she can feel Gods love and peace through what I say and the love I show her. I need help saying the right things at the right times in these delicate situations. My patience is definitely being tested.
Ok, I love you all! Thank you so much to my faithful readers. It's so good to know that people actually tune in to this thing! It makes it so worth writing! And I love reading everyone else's too!
