Lost my Grandpa today.

I got a call from my Dad this morning. People at his work had tested positive for COVID and he is planned to get married this weekend, so I was awaiting his new test results and whether or not they were (hopefully) going to postpone the wedding. Instead he broke the news that my 78 year old grandpa had driven to the county clerk parking lot and shot himself. I was never very close with my grandpa- he was mostly deaf by the time I was born and along with lifelong depression and social anxiety, he was also an autistic savant. Born to dirt poor Ukrainian immigrants, he saved up money from mining in the Allegheny mountains to go to college. He became a highly accomplished electrical engineer- building monstrously huge transformers for GE. His basement was a huge workshop where he built his own gadgets and projects in his free time. He also had a major interest in saltwater fish; a giant fishtank that took up an entire wall was home to many kinds of aquatic life. I felt that he was a deeply interesting guy that I had a lot of admiration for, but he chose to be more solitary and avoided the stress of family get-togethers and holidays. I never resented him for this, it was kind of just a fact of the family that grandpa was “just kinda like that”. He had endured a lot of trauma, including abusive parents and a schizophrenic brother who murdered a man and later died in an institution. He was stoic and distant, but I knew a lot was brewing underneath it all.Despite my distant relationship, the news was a punch in the stomach. Mostly guilt from knowing I could have emailed him more and tried to stay in contact better. He was terrified of COVID due to his advanced COPD. He hadn’t left the house in 7 months; my dad and aunts would take turns delivering his medication and groceries. Lastly, I imagined the pain and isolation he was in. His biggest fear in life was dying in a nursing home. His lung issues often left him bedridden and on oxygen most days. It hurts to imagine the functionality of his body decreasing along with quarantine isolation. His quality of life was poor.Michigan autumn is gorgeous in his rural community with miles of fruit orchards, cider mills, and stunning foliage. I hoped that when he sat in his car last night for the last time that he was able to find solace in the nature around him as he chose to leave. When I drove to work today and the sun was so bright and the leaves so vibrant, all I could think of was how it was a beautiful day and he can’t see it .I wish we all could have told him how much we cared for him. I hope that his final moments brought peace to him as opposed to suffering. I wish medically supervised suicide were an option to avoid his violent end. He was a good man who lived and died on his own terms. I just wish he was able to go in a more peaceful way. He deserved that after all of the hardships he endured whether it be with his mind or body.To make matters worse, my dad is still going on with his wedding on Sunday (2 days after his death). My grandpa had left emails to all his kids, and specifically mentioned he wanted my dad to have his wedding. Despite this, I’m dreading the occasion. Along with the risk of covid, I cannot imagine being able to fake a smile for photos and champagne toasts. How my Dad is going through with his fourth marriage less than 48 hours after his father’s suicide is beyond unimaginable to me.So basically this post has turned into a vent session, but I feel better knowing that someone else can read about what an accomplished and brilliant guy my Grandpa was. I’m going to make a huge pot of borscht in his memory. I love you Grandpa. I wish I could have told you it one last time. I hope you can rest wherever you are. via /r/SuicideBereavement https://ift.tt/3lUyEtE