My own reaction surprised me—I broke down in tears.
“You know what… give me a moment.”
I stopped at the corner of Preston Street and tried the usual “take a deep breath” trick. I heard my sister doing the same 6,000 km away, in Paris.
My mom had just called her—my grandmother had found my grandfather unconscious at home. She had called the paramedics then my mom, who had just had the time to call my sister before rushing to the hospital, and my sister was now responsible for breaking the news to me.
There’s a lot of calling to be done when you live far from your relatives.
This was back in winter 2018. Against all odds, my beloved 89-year-old papi woke up from coma and was eventually discharged from the hospital. I saw him a lot when we travelled to France the past two summers—we’re very close, my mom’s parents live a five-minute walk from her place. He looked weaker, he moved slowly, but he was alive and well.
But this is how, two years ago, I suddenly realized that one day, I was bound to receive bad news by email and cry again over the phone, that one day I’ll go to sleep blissfully unaware of a situation happening in France only to learn about it several hours later when getting up.
Last February, papi was back at the hospital after another seizure. I was in Santos when I received the email and I called my mom right away. He was okay-ish physically but weak. We weren’t as alarmed as the first time and indeed, the situation sounded less dramatic. It would take time to recover but he had a strong heart.
“You gotta give it to mamie,” I joked, “she picked a reliable model 70 years ago!”
The following weeks were uneventful, albeit a logistical nightmare for my mom who was taking mamie to the hospital for visits and trying to convince her to accept the support of a caregiver when papi would be discharged.
Then COVID-19 happened and France was put on lockdown. Hospital visits were no longer allowed. My mom had the doctor on the phone several times a week and apparently, my mamie had managed to call papi a few times but it was tricky to get a nurse to bring him the phone—perfectly understandably, it’s not exactly a priority in hospitals.
Two weeks ago, my mom got a phone call from the hospital. “He has a bit of fever… we’re transferring him to another hospital for a COVID-19 test.”
Two days later, we learned he had tested positive. Oh, the irony… Long-term patients were sheltered from the outside world because of the pandemic but he caught it at the hospital.
It went downhill from here. Technically, he didn’t have the most severe form of COVID-19 with respiratory distress, but at 91 years old, even the flu would have been bad news.
I’ve been glued to the phone for the past three weeks. I feel powerless because I’m stuck in Ottawa—I never thought I’d be literally unable to travel to France for emergency. So I’ve been calling my mom every day for updates and to provide emotional support.
The lockdown is making everything more painful. My siblings and my only aunt are in Paris, so my mom got left with the dirty work, namely liaising with the hospital and making my mamie accept that this time, it could be the end.
It’s not easy to know that you will be the one telling your 89-year-old mother that her husband died.
For a week, we thought he may make it, then we understood he probably wouldn’t.
My mom and I started talking about all the practical aspects of death and dying, again made more complicated because of the lockdown. You can’t go buy new clothes, get flowers or just say goodbye properly.
One afternoon, I lost it just thinking that he would die alone without anyone to hold his hand, surrounded by people wearing protective equipment.
“I just… I need a moment, I’ll call you back,” I sobbed before hanging up on my mom.
Just before Easter weekend, we discussed where to bury him for a couple of hours.
“Mamie claims they never had the chance to talk about!” my mom said, half giggling because the statement was typically what you’d expect from my grandparents.
“Right, totally makes sense—after all, who even considers death at 90 years old these days?”
And then I came home because I’m making all these calls outside to be able to cry alone and for Mark’s sake—the whole COVID-19 situation and the partial lockdown are alarming enough for a seven years old, he doesn’t need to know yet about his great-grandfather dying. “Mommy, mommy, when can I do the Easter egg hunt?” And this is how, after wondering about the best cemetery in Nantes, I went to hide Easter eggs…
Last week we tried to solve another moral dilemma. The hospital had offered one final visit. No way we would even let mamie consider it, both because of potential contamination risks and the psychological challenge ahead. My mom didn’t seem too keen on it either. “Don’t feel bad about it,” I advised. “He isn’t conscious. If you want to go, do it, but it won’t change a thing.”
On Saturday, my brother managed to take the train from Paris to Nantes—after being questioned by the police forever…—because he wanted to see him one last time.
I called them both in the afternoon—turned out my mom went with him after all.
And while I was on Skype with the two of them, the phone rang.
“It’s the hospital,” my mom said. “This is…”
My brother and I remained silent while she was taking the call in the bedroom.
“Good timing for your visit,” I mused after a minute.
“Yep.”
I could tell he was trying very hard not to cry and I was doing the same. I looked up to the sky. I was walking on Baseline, along the Experimental Farm—first warm day of the year in Ottawa.
“He passed away at 11:30 p.m.,” my mom reported. “It’s… yeah, 11:40 p.m. So ten minutes ago.”
“Are you telling mamie right away?”
We debated for a couple of minutes whether it was best to break the news late at night or early in the morning then agreed it was best to do it right away.
And before getting ready for the late-night visit, my mom went to call her sister, my brother went to call our sister and I called my dad because even though my parents are separated, papi was part of his life for forty years.
There’s a lot of calling when someone dies.
And typing this makes me giggles—“don’t spend too long on the phone,” papi would have said. “It’s expensive!”
And so ended the life of Michel Giannesini, 91 years old, former sound engineer, repairman and one of the first people to sell TVs in France in the 1950s. He is leaving behind his wife, two daughters, five grandchildren and one great-grandchild (yay Mark!), a basement full of old TVs and other random post-war technology that “could still be useful one day if I fix it,” and strong opinions about made in China products (“it’s just crap”).
He barely knew how to read and write because he never felt like learning but he could fix almost anything, albeit his way (read, not in a way that meets any acceptable current norms). He had wanted to be an airline pilot but never took a plane. He found the world fascinating and could talk about history for hours.
Last summer, he reminded me that life was short. “There’s no god or anything like that. It’s all bullshit. When that’s it… that’s it.”
Now if you’d excuse me, I’m gonna cry for a while.
Oh Juliette, am so sorry to hear this. I’m in the same position so totally get it..Also lost my dad three weeks ago. The taking a deep breath technique has been helping. It’s hard especially with the current situation. Not being able to travel to be with mum. Grateful for the support of community back home. They’re looking after her.
May your grandpa rest in peace. What a blessing to have had him for 91 years.They say time heals but till then, it’s hard. Let’s take it a day at a time. Sending you hugs.
Fran, I’m very, very sorry you lost your dad and that you find yourself in this shitty situation as well–being stuck away from home and not being able to grieve with your mother. I can relate and although all deaths are painful, I think losing a father is particularly difficult.
May he rests and peace. I hope you will be able to hug your mother soon.
Sorry you and your family are going through this. And to have to take your crying outside must be hard.
Sounds like your grandpa and grandma lived as if they were going to live forever! Hope your grandma will be okay.
Sending you hugs.
Accidentally responded under Fran’s comment.
What a tough time to suffer the passing of loved ones. Fran, so sorry for your loss.
I think she will be okay. She’s wiser than we think…
Hello Zhu,
Je suis tellement désolée et triste de lire ce post.
Je te présente mes condoléances. Garde le lien avec ta famille surtout !
Bon courage !
Merci!
I’m sorry for your lost. I imagine living thousand miles away from immediate family is not easy, especially for time like this. Early this year, my best friend lost her father, her brothers lives in Wien and Stockholm. Her brother can’t see the father’s face for the last time. For Moeslem, you have to burry the dead one, as soon as possible.
I recently lost my cousin too due to heart attack, and the saddest part I can’t visit his family during this Covid-19 outbreak 🙁
seems your papie had beautiful life!
I’m really sorry to hear you dealt with grief while being stuck at home as well. I understand that sadly, my case isn’t unique these days.
I’m so sorry this happened at the worst possible time… not being able to fly even if you want to feels debilitating. Under normal circumstances, it would take time and money but one can always find a way to make it happen. Except now.
April has been the same for me: my stepmother passed away a few weeks ago and I took on the role of dealing with my father who is 83 and coordinating the process and response for both sides of the family. Handling the practical stuff is hard enough, but doing it remotely with restrictions and risk of infection is even worse. I didn’t want my father to go to the funeral home to sign papers, so I had to find ways to complete the process without him leaving the house.
This situation has taken a serious mental toll on everyone, but I feel it’s especially affecting seniors whose cognitive abilities are eroding. My father is pretty helpless, and I’m 8,000km away. I could not find a way to get to him due to borders being closed and flights stopped. He understands he has to be careful, but the family members aren’t cooperating by wearing masks around him, or getting him masks.
I’m sure your family is much more united than mine, our dysfunction is at its height in this pandemic. Everyone is stressed out.
Your papi’s TV tinkering sounds a lot like my Portuguese father-in-law… his workshop and storage room is full of “retirement projects”.
Oh, I’m sorry to hear your dealing grief and “family management” from abroad too! Is your father in BC?
I think seniors adapated faster at first because many typically live a quieter life. However, as time goes by, isolation is harder on them and the risk is also very real.
Toutes mes condoléances pour ton grand-père et désolée que tu aies dû vivre ça pendant cette foutue pandémie en plus! I know crying helps so it’s good you’re not holding back. It feels like you have been very very close to one another.
I hope you’ll soon find the strength to share it with Mark. This might make it easier to live for you and I’m not sure this would traumatise him. It would certainly upset him to see you so sad but he could understand your struggle (I’m even surprised he didn’t feel it). En tout cas, bon courage !
Mark knows now, I told him yesterday. I didn’t want to make it a secret but I had to be okay enough to answer his questions and talk about it without crying. Everything is so weird these days… I didn’t feel like adding another sad event to the misery for him.
Je suis vraiment désolée que tu perdes ton Papi, et encore plus dans ces circonstances terribles. Plein de pensées à toi et à ta famille. Ton grand-père avait l’air d’être un numéro ! <3
Merci!
(Et oh que oui… je prépare un “best of des phrases de papi” à partager en famille quand le deuil douloureux s’estompera un peu!)
Je suis tellement navrée, principalement parce que tu ne pouvais pas être auprès de lui. J’espère qu’il est parti doucement… From time to time, i still mourn my own grand-father, and it’s been around ten-ish years.
Je crois que c’est ce qui est le plus dur. Le décès, je crois que je m’y étais préparée depuis deux ans, ça paraissait inévitable (mais le plus tard possible!)
So sorry for your loss…
Thank you.
Toutes mes condoléances !
Ça doit être vraiment difficile de vivre ça en une telle période…
Bon courage pour traverser ces prochains jours !
Merci 🙂
La Suisse reprend-elle vie en ce moment?
I’m so sorry 🙁
My condolences to you, I can understand that being far makes everything way more difficult.
It’s already a tough moment for anyone in “normal” conditions, with a mourning it gets really complicated.
I lost my mom almost five years ago and my suggestion to face all of this is to take some time for yourself. For crying, being angry for no reason, eating, do whatever you want without worrying too much. Take care of yourself, try to do something that makes you feel better 🙂 Mark is a smart young boy, let him help you, hug you or console you if you need to. It’s ok if you’re sad or if you cry in front of him, it was your grandfather, you loved him and it’s normal that you feel so sad.
This was just according to my experience of course, anyone faces things differently so it’s definitely not an order
Take care and it will get better ☺️
Aww, thank you for the self-care advice! I just can’t even losing a mother… there’s no hierarchy in feelings and love but that’s a whole different level.
I hope your grieving now morphed into sometimes less painful. Virtual hug!
Thanks! Yeah it’s ok now, the positive thing is that after an event like that, for any other problem I’m like “yeah whatever, it’s not a huge deal ”
Take care!!!! xoxoxo
Oh yes, sometimes the old saying is kind of true: “what does’t kill you (no pun intended!) makes you stronger”.
Thank you again for your wisdom!
I’ve never been close to any of my grands-parents, and only knew 3 of them. I suspect the one who died before I met him was an abusive jerk. We barely ever talk of him.
But that’s a different thing when you’re close to them.
I’m sorry for your loss.
Bon, d’un autre côté, tes grands parents n’ont pas tort de ne pas avoir trop discuté de ça: très peu de gens meurent à 91 ans. La plupart meurent avant. Ya une logique.
Cette foutue génération des 30 glorieuses! 😆
It’s funny, I was picturing you close to your grand-parents for some reason. Maybe because you seem close to your parents and siblings.
So, report from the front… how are things going at work and on both sides of the border?
Still the same than before. However, I’ve seen a restaurant inside a truck stop open in Tennessee, but I haven’t checked what rules they follow when allowing customers.
And I stopped looking for isopropanol, there isn’t anywhere. But I’ve found small bottles of 80% éthanol which are as good to do the job.
I brought back alcohol (not the drinkable kind, unless you’re desperate) back from Chile. Most supermarkets here have a bottle customers can use when entering or they have a temporary sink with soap. Good enough for me. The rest of the time, either I don’t need to wash my hands just yet (just taking a walk outside) either I use hand sanitizer, a small bottle goes a long way.
Walmart had hand sanitizer a few weeks ago. It still exists… somewhere.
Wouldn’t it be ironic if you had a load of alcohol and none for you?
I’m so sorry, Zhu. It’s so hard to be far away. We are such social creatures and to be unable to gather and mourn the loss must be incredibly difficult and frustrating. How are you supposed to get closure? Thank goodness for long-distance and data plans. Can you imagine if this had happened 30 years ago? Let me know if there is anything I can do.
Yep, it sucks… and I never thought I’d be unable to go to France. I’m okay, although seeing you (six feet between us) is always tempting 😉
Let’s do it!
… and we did.
I’m so sorry, big hugs to you. I know the shock has probably passed but grief takes time to process…
I lost one grandma when I was in Scotland (I was able to come back a month before that to say my goodbyes) and I remember how hard it was to deal with it on my own.
Then my other mamie passed away last Spring and I wasn’t able to be part of anything with my family.
I wasn’t as close to them as it sounds like you were with your papi but I understand the pain of being far away and trying to deal with everyone and everything from afar. Even more so in the middle of a freaking pandemic.
Take good care
I remember you dealt with several crisis back home so unfortunately, you know the feeling :-/
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