Overwhelmed

On the Fourth of July Grandpa's three sons and their partners and I had a meeting with the guy who is the head doctor for Grandpa. The summary is that the doc thinks everything Grandpa has now can be reversed if given enough time (another month at least). This includes pneumonia, a ventilator to help breathe, a feeding tube, and dialysis, among other myriad medications and supports. But we also acknowledged that we don't know what the next month will hold.

So what you can do is to hold Grandpa in the Light. He needs the Light of Healing and Peace. And so does his family.

There is a "This American Life" (a radio story-telling show) episode that I have listened to three times now on air and every time, I weep. It is worth your time to listen to Act One.  It tells the story of a radio show in Colombia that is a call-in-show for the families of people who have been kidnapped.  The families call in to wish their kidnapped relatives a happy birthday, or to talk about how the kids are growing up.  The men in the jungle listen to the show, broadcast in the middle of the night, hoping to hear news from back home.  The guards allow the radio because it keeps up morale, and keeps the men from killing themselves. The families do not know if their loved one is listening, if he is even alive, or if they will ever see him again.
  Today I told Grandpa that I feel like those families.  I tell him things every day.  I put my mouth at his ear and I explain to him where he is and what is happening to his body; I remind him that so many people love him, and I list them by name, and I give him their messages.  I tell him when the date is special because it is some one's birthday, or a national holiday.  But I don't know what messages he is getting or not getting.  And I don't know if or when he will come back.  But I believe the messages, the ones that get through, help to keep up morale; so I will keep sending them.  But I miss him terribly.