My grandad died a month ago. I loved him and he absolutely adored me, my siblings and my children. He could be so caring and did a lot for me over the years. But he was mostly pretty awful to my dad. For no good reason - almost like he took everything out on him because he was the closest person to him.
I was the person he would call on if he needed help and I’d always be there. And he would do anything for me too. But as much as I loved him, I always felt like I held a bit of that love back because of the way he treated my dad - I could see how much it hurt my dad and so it hurt me too. For example, he would often give me money without my asking for it - but never offer it to my dad when he was struggling. He would often blank my dad when there were other people in the room, accuse him of being selfish and money-grabbing when none of those things were true at all. Sometimes they got along fine but it would kill me to see how desperately my dad just wanted to be loved by him.
He had various genuine health problems but he was a bit of a hypochondriac because he had countless other complaints over the years that led to nothing - the doctors frequently found nothing wrong with him. I was happy to go to appointments with him but I did get frustrated when it always seemed to turn out to be nothing, again. He had appointments pretty much every week.
Over the last year or so, I felt like I pulled away from him a bit - didn’t see him as often as I could, or take my kids round as much as I could. My dad was going to see him every week - despite the fact they would often but not always argue.
And then he died. Unexpectedly and alone. And my dad and i just cannot deal with the devastation and guilt. Now in hindsight we see him for what he was in the end - a vulnerable 84 year old man. I can’t cope with the fact that I should’ve seen him more and my dad can’t cope with the fact that he felt he didn’t treat him as well as he could. I should’ve had him round for meals every week, should’ve taken him out more, just done more with him. I don’t think my dad treated him badly but I know he feels bad for the fact they always argued and he dreaded visiting. But also it seems he did actually have a health problem that caused his death - and we didn’t take it seriously because of all the health issues that turned out to be nothing. If he had been with one of us, we could’ve saved him.
How do you cope with the guilt? Constantly thinking about them being afraid when they died? The crushing feeling that you let that person down? The constant imagining of all the things you would do differently if they were here now?