Tuesday, February 17, 2009

In Sickness and in Health… Till Death Do Us Part

On February 17, 2009, my grandfather passed away. I am sure we all knew this was coming; nevertheless, it does not make it any easier. Last week we were having a pizza party at my grandparent’s house and he seemed as good as to be expected. On Saturday, he went to the hospital for an infection in his foot, on Monday he suffered a heart attack, and on Tuesday, they removed his life support.

He lived such a great life. In his early years, he was a solider for the German army and he was held as an American prisoner of war. He moved his family over to the United States for a chance of a better life. He came over from Germany with the clothes on his back, made enough money to move his family over, and eventually ended up establishing a multi million-dollar corporation. He lived a great life; I know we will all miss him so much. Most importantly, I do not want to remember him the way he was towards the end, I want to remember him as the vivacious man he was.

My grandmother stood by his side through out all of this. She devoted her life and her heart to that man. Last night we went to McDonalds and she said ‘I cannot believe I have his wallet and he’s not with me.’ I felt like I was being stabbed in the heart with a knife when she said that. At that moment the truth seemed so inevitable, this was the end. In his last years, he was sick on and off, she loved him regardless of his condition. Faithfully my grandmother cooked his dinner, sat next to him in the den nights when he would fall asleep with the TV on, helped him into bed, and helped bathe him. She was always there with him.

Up until recently, I never realized how much I really do want to get married. The thought of growing old alone scares the shit out of me. Sofia will grow up, get married, and have her own family… I will be home alone sitting in a fucking lazy boy chair miserable and alone. I want someone who still enjoys being with me and the company I offer, long after my good looks have faded.

I am more afraid of growing old and being alone, than I am of dying. I would rather grow old and ugly with someone who genuinely wants to be with me. Then die trying to stay young and beautiful so he does not leave me. Someone who can embrace and appreciate my less than perfect body after bearing his children.

Fuck I’m going to end up miserable and alone.


  1. I understand how you feel about being "more afraid of growing old and being alone, than of dying." I too would rather grow old and ugly with someone who genuinely wants to be with me. You are young and have a long time for that special someone to come along. I found true love at 38 years old.

    Hugs to you,


  2. Not Your Mothers Single MomFebruary 22, 2009 at 10:18 AM

    Thanks Maria,
    I know I have plenty of time, but thinking about it still makes me scared.