Super Bowl Sunday with Poppy

27 years ago, I was in Nana and Poppy's apartment on Super Bowl Sunday, lying on the bed, eathing snacks and taking in the game for the first time.

Today, Super Bowl Sunday, I was once again next to Poppy. This time, though, the TV wasn't on, we weren't talking, and the light and energy of that day is but a distant memory.

Today, I sat in a dark room with window shades drawn just holding my Poppy's hand for 30 minutes. Instead of Nana on the other side of the room, Leto-the male nurse from the Phillippines-was our companion. Instead of chatting about the game, it was silent, the only noise was the semi-labored breathing of an 87 year old man, recently widowed, lying on his bed.

I had tried to make small talk and Poppy responded, but nothing felt right. I had brought the kids into the room for a few minutes to smile at him and give him a hug or a kiss, which they did, and at which he smiled.

You know how you have distant memories in your head that are vivid in the fact that they happened, but blurred in your exact recollection of the events?

As Erez and Calanit looked at Poppy on the bed-not comprehending, I am sure what was happening- I was transported back to Baltimore in 1979 when I was visiting with my own Great Grandparents in the weeks prior to their deaths. I remember my sister, Dina, who was 3 weeks old or so at the time-being displayed to my Great Grandfather as he, too, lay in a bed (I think it was a hospital bed.)

At the end of Shel Silverstein's classic book, The Giving Tree, the boy comes back as an old man and though the tree laments its inability to offer any type of amusement or distraction, the man says, basically, "I don't need anything. I just want to sit and rest."

So, I just reached down and clasped his hand and we held them together-his still strong-for quite some time. And then, I looked around the room, taking in the pictures, the wallpaper, the furniture, all of the things I had seen a million times, but never really studied, and just soaked in these elements that represent my grandparents.

When my son walked into the room, I put Erez's hands into Poppy's and let Poppy squeeze it for a minute, to give him the feeling that comes from knowing that he is eternal because his spirit lives on through my children.

Poppy dozed in and out of sleep a few times and eventually, I got up. Before I left, I went in and gave him a light kiss on his forehead, hoping it wouldn't be the last time, but knowing it could be.