Yesterday my beloved Grandfather had a stroke.
I was really thrown off - I had just made the go-train trip the day before to go visit him on my day off, and cooked lunch for him with my cousin. We mentioned how great he seemed that day, cracking jokes and smiling and chatting. Then the very next day, my cousin calls me to let me know he was in the hospital with what doctors were 90% sure was a stroke. Today they confirmed it.
He's stable, mentally there but has trouble forming words and will probably have lost the function in his right arm/right side. His dog also scratched up his arm pretty bad while he was unconscious on the floor of his house. I am so thankful his neighbours chose to visit him yesterday and found him on time.
I don't really want to say much more. I didn't really want to say anything about it all, I don't want a pity party - this isn't about me, it's about my Farfar (father's father in danish). But I can't think of anything else today so I thought it appropriate to post it. I love that man. He's the sweetest of the sweet. And for years he has visited my grandmother religiously at her nursing home where she lives with advanced Alzheimers. His devotion to her is astounding.
I snapped these photos of him the day before his stroke.
My cousin with him on Wednesday.
And this is me with my Farmor (father's mother) and Farfar when I was little. It's such a happy picture, I seriously treasure it.
All photos (C) Katia Engell.
Life is short. Anything can happen at any minute. So tell those whom you love that you love them every day and never stop showing it.