My Buelo

Today our family is suffering the loss of my mother's father.  Grandpa Romano, or as I have always known him, Buelo, went to sleep Friday night and never woke up.  He was resuscitated by paramedics at his home and taken to the hospital where he was placed on a respirator.

However, too much damage had occurred and his condition was irreversible.  Sitting there with him in the SICU the sadness, although expected, was still overwhelming.  For two days we waited for the final tests to confirm what we already knew we had to do.

I watched as my mother and his wife spoke into his ear, telling him of our decision.  Telling him we were all there with him.  Telling him that we know he would not want to remain this way--and that we would all be okay.  And then they told him that it was all going to be okay, that he could rest now.

He celebrated his 89th birthday this past January.  We had taken him out to eat and Tee had made him a birthday cake from scratch.  She decorated it beautifully for him.  He loved it even though it wasn't a good cake.  And he ate a big'ol slice or rather forced it down with a huge smile on his face.

I can spend a lot time telling you all about him.  After all, I've known him my whole life. But there's only a few things that I'd really like to share.  Like how much I admire him.  Like how much he taught me which wouldn't seem like a big deal until you learn how unwilling of a student I was.  Like how I respect him for having had the courage to leave his life in Mexico and move his family to Texas in pursuit of a better life.

I can tell you all about how it impacted me to see how hard he worked for his family.  Or about how he was always there for us as kids and adults.  How he was always there for my mom and dad.  How he was always there for my grandmother, especially when her health faded and she passed away.  How it broke me inside to see him alone after she was gone with no joy in his life.  How I wish I could have done more for him.  How I will make sure Camden knows who my Buelo was.

Is it the definition of a grandfather to always be there for you?  Is he meant to be someone you could always count on?  It was for me.  And it hurts to lose someone who has always been there for you.  It's an enormous loss.  It's a whole in my soul. I can never thank that man enough for what he's meant to me or ever get to the end of showing him the love that's in my heart for him.