Chapter 22
It was a quiet day, the kind of day where everything seemed like it was just a bit too still. You had received the call just an hour ago. Your grandpa, the one person who had always been there for you, the one who had accepted you without question, was in hospice now. His health had been slowly declining for months, but this felt different. It felt like the world was shifting in ways you weren't prepared for. You could feel your heart race in your chest as you drove to the hospice, the car barely moving in the thick traffic.
Vi had insisted on going with you, but you had told her to stay back. You didn't want her to see you like this, not in the middle of all the chaos swirling inside you. Vi, being who she was, hadn't argued. She'd simply nodded, her expression soft but firm, understanding your need for space, but still there to offer support if you needed it. She had always known when to pull back, but always stayed within reach. That was one of the things you admired most about her.
You arrived at the hospice, the air feeling thick with unease as you walked through the quiet halls. The sterile smell of cleaning products, the soft hum of distant conversations, and the quiet beeping of machines filled the space. It was surreal, almost as if you were walking through a dream, one that was too painful to wake up from.
When you reached his room, you hesitated for a moment before you opened the door. There he was, lying in a bed, his body frail and weak, but his eyes were still sharp—sharp in that way that reminded you of the old man who had taught you how to fix things, how to play piano, how to be yourself in a world that tried to change you. His once strong frame was now smaller, as if the years were finally catching up with him. But there was still a spark in his eyes, one that made your chest tighten with a love so fierce it hurt.
He smiled when he saw you, his voice a weak rasp as he called your name, "Kid, is that you?"
You nodded, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to spill. "Yeah, Grandpa. It's me."
You walked slowly to his side, careful not to jostle him too much. His hand reached out to you, and you took it in yours, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the midst of all the chaos. His fingers were frail, but his grip was still strong.
"I'm glad you're here," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't think you'd come. I know I've been hard on you, kid, but I'm proud of you."
A lump formed in your throat as you fought to hold back the tears. The vulnerability in his voice was enough to make your heart break, and you tried to choke back the sob that threatened to escape. "Grandpa," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you. I don't know if I can do this on my own. You've always been there for me, and now... I'm scared."
He shifted a little in the bed, his face contorting in pain, but he didn't let go of your hand. "I know it's scary, kid. Life's always been scary, but you've got the strength to face it. You don't need me to hold your hand anymore. You've grown up." He paused, his breath shallow. "But that doesn't mean I'm not proud of you. I'm proud of who you are. I always have been."
The tears spilled from your eyes now, the dam breaking open as you leaned closer to him. Without thinking, you climbed onto the bed beside him, careful not to jostle him too much. You wrapped your arms around him, the soft beeping of machines filling the air, as you rested your head against his chest, just like when you were a child. You held on to him, clinging to the only person who had ever truly understood you. Your grandpa was the one who had always known who you were, who had always accepted you when the rest of your family had been too busy trying to fit you into a mold you didn't belong in.
"I don't know how to do this without you," you said, your voice muffled against his chest. "You've always been there. You're the only one who ever really understood me. The only one who accepted me. I don't know if I can keep going without you guiding me."
His breath was shallow now, but his fingers still squeezed yours, a reminder that he was still here, still holding on. "You've always had the strength to do things on your own," he whispered. "You just have to believe it. I'll always be with you, in here." He tapped his chest weakly, a smile tugging at his lips. "And you've got Vi now. She's a good girl. I can tell. You've got someone who's got your back."
You closed your eyes, trying to process his words, the weight of them sinking deep into your heart. The thought of losing him was unbearable. But in the quiet of the room, you felt a tiny bit of peace, knowing that your grandpa believed in you, even if he wouldn't be around much longer.
"I'm so scared," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I don't know if I'm strong enough to keep going."
Grandpa's grip tightened on your hand. "You're stronger than you know," he rasped. "And Vi? She's the real deal, kid. She'll be there for you, just like I have been."
The room was quiet again, save for the sound of your soft breaths and the rhythmic beep of the machines. You stayed there for a long while, holding onto your grandpa, the tears slowing as you tried to come to terms with everything. You couldn't picture a world without him in it, but you knew that you had to start finding the strength to move forward. You weren't alone. Vi was out there, waiting, and you knew that she'd be there for you when you needed her.
Eventually, you pulled back from your grandpa, wiping your eyes as you gave him one last, lingering kiss on the forehead. "I love you, Grandpa," you said softly. "Thank you for everything. I'll keep going. I promise."
He smiled weakly, but there was so much pride in his eyes that it made your heart swell with love. "I know you will. I love you, too."
You stood slowly, taking one last look at him, before walking out of the room, your legs shaky but your heart full. The world felt heavier now, but there was still a small spark of hope in your chest. You didn't know what the future would hold, but you knew that you weren't alone. Not anymore.
Vi was waiting just outside the room, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the wall, her eyes filled with concern. She didn't say anything at first. She didn't need to. She just held out her arms to you, and you stepped into them without a second thought, the weight of everything crashing down on you as you rested your head on her shoulder.
"It's going to be okay," Vi said, her voice soft but firm. "I'm here, alright?"
You nodded, your chest tight as you clung to her. She didn't ask questions. She didn't need to. She just held you, steady and strong, and for the first time in hours, you felt a sense of relief.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," you whispered into her shoulder.
Vi held you tighter. "You won't have to find out," she murmured. "I'm not going anywhere."
In that moment, with her arms wrapped around you, you didn't feel so alone.