Allen Henry William Schulz

The happiness that I felt about the mature follicle on my left ovary was short-lived and became bittersweet yesterday.  Yesterday, my grandfather became unresponsive as pneumonia overwhelmed his tired, cancer-filled body.  His breathing was labored and reminded me of my grandmother before she died.  His head hung to the left and he was drooling a bit under the nebulizer mask.  His legs and hands were full of edema.  Earlier in the day, he yelled out “Patsy!” several times.  That was my grandmothers name and it was the last words he ever said in this life.  He finally went onto hospice care last night and passed away this evening.  For me, the timing is both difficult and ironic.  I had wondered about how the fates work; if he had to pass before I could be blessed with a child.  This weekend I’m supposed to ovulate.  Bittersweet.  Bittersweet to see his suffering come to an end, to know that his spirit is reuniting with grandma; yet knowing how much I’m going to miss him from the very bottom of my heart.

Nearly 1 year ago he walked me down the aisle.  Right before we started walking, he cried about grandma. Magdalene Photography He talked about how she baptized me in the bathtub when I was little because she loved me so.  I carried my bouquet wrapped in my baptismal handkerchief, which grandma also held in her casket.  Everyone that met grandpa loved him immediately.  Grandpa was my rock, my favorite man on this earth.  Last week, I asked him what his favorite memory was from his childhood.  He told me that his mom and dad (Vinelda & Rudy) would take him and his brothers to town (West Bend) frequently on Fridays for all-you-can-eat ice cream.  Chocolate was his favorite.

I can’t believe that both of my grandparents are gone.  They practically raised me.  Now, they aren’t here and I can feel their emptiness.  After grandma died, I think grandpa carried her with him because I didn’t feel the emptiness nearly as much as I feel it now.  It never really felt like grandma was gone – it just felt like she wasn’t here.



One thought on “Allen Henry William Schulz

  1. Pingback: Crying is therapeutic…unless you are depressed. | In Search of Poopy Diapers

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