My 96 year old Grandad has been in hospital since June, initially with covid but now with other complications. I was finally able to visit him this evening.
I walked in and was shocked by how small he was and then he spoke and I couldn’t believe how weak he sounded.
My mom had made him a little picnic - some sandwiches and a few pieces of cake. I watched him eat and saw the crumbs fall on his chest and the way he was sipping orange squash from the hospital cup; it reminded me of my toddler.
I started imagining him as a little boy, thinking of him with his mom, dad and siblings, all of them now gone. I then thought of him now, lying in this bed for 3 months and how lonely he must have been.
My Nan died last August, they’d been married 73 years. He must miss her like crazy.
I was glad I could hide slightly behind my mask, because I was starting to well up.
…but then he farted really loudly so I was fine after that. Still thankful for the mask but for different reasons.