Could you tell me a time you felt hopeless?

I was on holiday in St Andrews when I got the first call. There had been worrying times before but he had always pulled through. Was it another one of those times? Or was this it the end? 

My Grampa had been put into a care home due to the onset of dementia. He had always been such a fun and social man so this was so hard to see for all of our family. His mind had failed him but his physical health was top form. The main thing that hurt me so much about his passing was seeing my dad struggle. This is not something that is natural in life, seeing the people you look up to, the adults who always assured you that things would be okay, hurting. On the day I got the call I remember my dad saying that my Grampa was in a bad way. I was 170 miles away, a three-hour drive, and something inside me told me that this wasn’t one of those times. Something inside me was telling me I had to go, I have never felt a feeling so strong in my life. The pull to be there with them. The whole drive I remember saying out loud “Grampa please just hold on until I get there, I want to say goodbye” 

Standing by his bedside in the care home I felt so much love and sadness at the same time. This is as close I had ever come to death. I was fortunate enough never to have lost anyone until now. I held his warm hand and said a prayer for him. 

The thing that got me the most when my Grampa passed was the helplessness I felt when I saw the fear and sadness in my dad’s eyes. The same eyes that I, as a little girl, had looked into for reassurance and saw nothing but strength, courage and love and so much support – the same eyes I was now looking into as a young adult filled with sadness, fear and loss. The eyes are the portal to the soul and my heart ripped at the thought of the sadness that filled my dad’s soul during this time. An image which clearly sticks in my head, one which I will never be able to remove, is my dad on his knees at my Grampas bedside holding his hand, head down, and my brother standing behind my dad with his hand supportively on my dad’s shoulder. A complete role reversal. A chain of heartbreak and grief. This just isn’t right; my mind couldn’t comprehend it. It’s supposed to be my brother looking up to my dad, who looks up to his dad. Not the other way around. This memory will forever be engraved in my mind. The fragility of life and the certainty of death.