Page 4 of Home for Justice
“The doctor will speak with you when you arrive,” Tina replied gently. “I’m glad you’re nearly here, Tyler. I-I don’t know how much longer he has.”
Tyler whispered a choked thanks before ending the call. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he navigated the roads on autopilot, his eyes focused yet distant, the reality of what awaited him pressing mercilessly on his chest.
Soon, he saw the hospital looming ahead. When his grandfather had been brought in, his heart was so damaged that they thought about medevacing him to a larger hospital. His grandfather had been cognizant at the time and wouldn’t give his approval. He said he wanted to be there for his grandson before seeing his wife. It wasn’t until they’d first talked to Tyler that he’d explained that his grandmother had passed years ago. That let him know how close to death his grandfather was, more than any doctor’s prognosis. The memory sent a sharp pangthrough his chest. The depth of his grandfather’s longing made the approaching farewell painfully real.
He parked hastily and climbed from the vehicle, ignoring the stiffness in his back and the ache in his limbs. Jogging across the parking lot, he entered the hospital, eyes adjusting quickly to the sterile brightness. The reception area matched Tina’s precise description. He showed his ID to the smiling receptionist, not taking comfort in her compassionate efficiency. He just wanted everyone to hurry. Soon, a visitor badge with his photo was adhered to his shirt.
He headed for the elevators, his long strides allowing him to jump on one just before the doors closed. When he stepped out onto the fourth floor, the quiet calm of the family waiting area enveloped him. Sunlight filtered softly through the expansive windows, illuminating clusters of comfortable chairs arranged for intimate conversations that he knew would be filled with hope, grief, or both.
Tyler felt the solitude deepen within him. There would be no family gathered here today. Only him, alone once again. The weight of his isolation pressed upon him as he moved toward the nurses’ station, preparing himself to face the last goodbye with a man who meant the world to him.
A kind-faced nurse looked up, and her lips curved slightly. She stood and moved from behind the counter. “You must be Tyler. I’m Tina.”
“Tina, it’s nice to put a face to the voice,” Tyler said softly. The words were sincere, but beneath them, anxiety drummed through his chest, desperate to move past pleasantries and learn about his grandfather.
“Let’s talk as we walk down the hall,” she suggested.
Tyler adjusted his long stride to match Tina’s slower pace as they moved toward his grandfather’s room. The sterile scentof antiseptic and the muted beeping from the monitors in adjoining rooms filled the silence between them.
“The doctor will come in shortly to go over all the details,” she began, glancing at him sympathetically. “Your grandfather accepted pain medication, but he refused further surgery. At ninety years old, he said he was ready to let go.” A deep sadness touched her eyes as they lifted to his. “I’ve seen this many times,” she murmured softly, empathy clear in her voice. “Doctors strive to extend life, but some people simply reach a point when they feel it’s their time.”
They reached the doorway, and Tyler halted abruptly, his breath catching painfully in his throat. Through the open door, his grandfather lay silent and fragile, a shadow of the robust man who had always been a stalwart force in life. He’d seen him six months ago when he’d had a long weekend leave, but now… the familiar strong frame, so similar to his own and his father’s, was now frail and shrunken. His once-thick hair, which had darkened to steely gray over the years, was now sparse and snow-white, cropped close against his scalp. Tubes and wires intertwined around his thin body, connected to softly humming and persistently beeping machines.
Tina gently touched his shoulder, pulling him back from the heartbreaking scene. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re here. Don’t hesitate to speak to him,” she encouraged. “He drifts in and out of consciousness, but I’m sure he hears you.”
“Thank you,” Tyler whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.
Stepping into the quiet room, he pulled a chair close beside the bed and gingerly sat down. His gaze settled on his grandfather’s weathered hands, lying peacefully atop the gray hospital blanket. Hesitantly, Tyler reached out and clasped the nearest hand, surprised and saddened at its thinness.
“Hey, Gramps. It’s Tyler.” He spoke softly, desperately searching his grandfather’s lined face for a flicker of recognition.
The elderly man remained unmoving, pale and tranquil, seemingly untouched by his grandson’s heartfelt plea. Tyler’s throat tightened painfully, his chest constricting as he fought against the rising emotion.
Swallowing hard, he rubbed his grandfather’s fragile hand. “I got here as fast as possible,” Tyler continued quietly. “I was finishing with the Army, ready to retire, but I dropped everything as soon as I got the call. I’m here now, Gramps, and I’d give anything to know you can hear me.”
Time slipped by unnoticed as Tyler maintained his gentle hold, willing life into the fragile body beside him. Just when hope began to dim, he felt the faintest squeeze against his palm. Heart leaping into his throat, Tyler darted his eyes sharply between his grandfather’s face and the steady pulsing of the monitors.
“Gramps?” Tyler breathed, rising to lean over him, searching desperately for any sign of awareness. The elderly man’s eyes flickered open. His once vibrant gray-blue gaze was now clouded and confused, yet he was undeniably focused on Tyler.
“It’s Tyler,” he repeated gently, smiling through the tears now blurring his vision.
His grandfather’s head moved slightly in acknowledgment, his voice weak and tremulous as he rasped, “Know…who you…are…boy.”
The effort seemed to exhaust him, and his eyelids fluttered closed once more. Tyler felt the sting of tears building as gratitude for recognition and fear of imminent loss clashed within him.
Behind him, the quiet squeak of the door opening caught his attention. Tyler reluctantly released his grandfather’s hand, turning toward the approaching doctor. He stood tall, shoulders squared as if bracing himself for a blow.
“I’m Dr. Evans,” the doctor introduced himself quietly, compassion evident in his eyes. Tyler nodded stiffly in greeting, bracing for the inevitable words that would confirm his fears.
Dr. Evans paused briefly, collecting himself before speaking clearly yet gently. “Your grandfather has been battling congestive heart failure for some time, complicated by severe coronary artery disease and arrhythmias. Recently, he developed significant fluid buildup in his lungs, and his heart is simply struggling to manage.”
Tyler’s chest tightened painfully at each medical term, confirming his grandfather’s vulnerability.
“He refused any further surgery or invasive treatments,” the doctor continued, his voice filled with empathy. “As difficult as that decision may seem, I deeply respect his choice. He’s at peace with it, Tyler.”
Tyler nodded slowly, the doctor’s words landing heavily on his heart even though he knew they were true. Gramps would never want to prolong his life beyond his ability to live healthily, especially with his beloved wife having gone on before him.
Dr. Evans gave a gentle sigh. “I wish I had better news. Realistically, we’re looking at days now, perhaps less.”
