going home

So much of the time my grandfather spent in the nursing home, though so brief compared to others who have lost loved ones to Alzheimer's, was spent packing his suitcase, trying to climb out windows and doors. He wanted to go home.

And now, my grandfather is going home. He was taken to the hospital, they found he was likely to have had a heart attack, has been deemed essentially comatose, and my grandmother is being allowed to take him home, something she had wanted so much. They want him to be able to pass away in the place where he lives. His true home.

So here we are, at the end of a great life, and I will think about my grandmother as she cares for her husband of sixty three years in his last days, of my father who is losing his father, and of my grandfather himself, as he transitions in to whatever it is that comes after this.