Honestly, fuck corona.
This deadly virus has already taken so much away from us this year, it was only fitting that for its final act it would take my Grandpa too.
Like everyone with elderly relatives, my family always had an air of anxiety around Grandpa contracting the virus, given he was 90 and had some compromising pre-existing conditions. Nonetheless, once we got over the hump of the first wave, and seemingly the peak of the second, we took a tentative sigh of relief.
However, cruelly, four days before he was due to be discharged from respite care back into the comfort of his living room recliner, Grandpa (aka Kevin Featherston) tested positive.
Grandpa’s decline was intense and rapid. There was only three weeks between his asymptomatic diagnosis and his passing.
Even prior to his diagnosis, all he wanted was to be home. All we wanted was to keep him safe. Restrictions and limitations on home care meant it just wasn’t feasible for him to come home after his positive result.
I am so fortunate to have such a close extended family. I consider my cousins as some of my best friends, and my Aunties and Uncles as secondary parents. Grandpa’s house in Anzac Crescent was our home base.
Not only did COVID rob us of our future with Grandpa, it also robbed us of our final months together.
It is hard to properly articulate the pain felt watching someone you love dying over Zoom.
I grew up with my Grandfather always close, but in his dying days I never felt so far from him.
A man as great as him didn’t deserve to die isolated and away from his home. It doesn’t matter that he was 90, for the people that loved him it was still too soon.
His death somehow feels in vain. I believe our state’s second wave could've been avoided. Everyone has their opinion, but the facts are out there.
There is also this horrible sense of disconnect that I feel by being kept apart from my grieving family during this time. Our unit is so tight, and it feels so unnatural not to be falling into each other's arms.
In normal times, his funeral would've been a huge celebration of his life, with St Mary’s full to the brim of Williamstown residents past, present and future. He touched so many lives, and the tiny gathering we are going to have to have will not do his life justice.
Grandpa lived and breathed Williamstown. He was born and raised on his family farm on Kororoit Creek Road (which is now the car wash many of us use).
As a kid, every walk down main street Willi with my Nana and Grandpa was inhibited by stopping to speak to every second person we passed. As annoying as it seemed at the time, it makes my heart smile when I think of it now.
My Grandpa loved my Nana so bloody much. When she passed suddenly in 2016, his heartbreak was so evident we all felt like he would join her soon after.
Us grandkids used to groan every time Nana and Grandpa took the long scenic route through Williamstown on our way home from school. We didn’t know how to appreciate a slow paced life like they did.
I think about those days off sick from Primary School watching M*A*S*H with Grandpa. Nana always whipping up a dessert from scratch when we would come over for a cuppa. Grandpa overfeeding every begging dog with biscuits and scraps. Doing the Herald Sun Quiz on a Thursday night, which always featured Grandpa showing off his bizarre breadth of knowledge.
I think about how much they both enriched my childhood, just with their presence.
Without a doubt my grandparents greatest legacy is the family unit they have created.
As much pain as we are in at the moment, we take solace in the fact Grandpa has been reunited with his greatest love.
Our wounds will remain raw for quite some time, but I’m certain the strength of this family will help us through to the other side.
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