I had a very peaceful day today, just hanging out with Robert and putzing around the house. It wasn't until mid-afternoon that I realized it was 2 years ago today that my dad passed away. And it's not like I haven't been thinking about them, but I just hadn't remembered until later in the day. When I did it was a very peaceful feeling and memory, not depressing at all. I do miss him and my mom terribly but that oppressive, sad, lump in the chest feeling was not there. I know they're both at peace and that's what's most comforting for me. Love you, Dad.

Happy Father's Day to all our father's both biological and figurative!

Today's not only Father's Day but was also my dad's birthday. We used to joke with him that it was unfair for him to have his birthday on Father's day, like those kids who have their birthday on Christmas. I love you, Dad, and miss you. Happy Birthday and Happy Father's Day!

Today it is officially one year since my father passed away. I never had the presence of mind to write down what happened during that time, so I think now's a good time. I wanted to do so before time passes and some of the nicer things slip my mind. It was a weird mix of good and bad, but all around an exhausting experience.

Christmas time last year was not going to be the traditional celebration I'd come to love. By the time the holidays rolled around last year my dad had been in and out of the hospital most of the year. Each time it seemed to be the end, but he would somehow make it through and go home. The whole process was wearing my mother and sister out. My mom had also fallen behind on her chemo treatments because she didn't want to be sick when my dad might need her...paradoxical logic, but logical to her none the less.

Robert and I had planned to go up a few days before Christmas, have some sort of celebration and shuttle my mom from home to the hospital and back. Two days before we were set to leave, Robert got a stomach bug and so regretfully could not go with me. So I packed up the gifts and drove up to Little Rock.

My sister had her home decorated nicely, though I think it was more for her daughter than for her own wish to celebrate the holidays. Mom hadn't been able to get anything up for the holidays and totally focused on my dad. We settled in at my sister's place and spent most of the day up at the hospital. Dad was in a special bed to help prevent bedsores, but this had been too little too late. He had developed a large decubitus ulcer over his tailbone area - so large you could almost put a fist into it. The morphine helped the pain and he was in fairly good spirits, but he was starting to have some delirious moments. At one point he wanted me to help him get his pants on so he could go get a cup of coffee and a sandwich. He'd always say "OK" when I'd explain he was in the hospital and couldn't go, but it was always sad to see him realize he was confused.

On Christmas Eve we made it up to the hospital as usual and dad was again in good spirits. We talked about Christmas and I told him we'd brought some gifts for him. He said he'd be ready to go soon. I told him that he couldn't go yet, but that he was getting stronger and when he got home we'd help him get settled back in. Then he looked at me and said, "Son, sometimes I think I'm more over there on the other side than here." I knew then that he was slipping away, but I told him I thought that was not happening any time soon and that we'd see him for Christmas the next morning.

Christmas morning we got up early, opened the gifts and put on a good face for my little niece. It was a good Christmas morning under the circumstances and we got cleaned up and headed up to the hospital. My dad had been on that unit for almost two months and was very well liked by the staff there. When we got up to the unit the nurses told us he'd had a good night and was eager to see us.

My mom went in first with my sister and me helping her. My dad was in the bed but something was very wrong. His eyes were open but fixed and staring at the ceiling with his mouth hanging open. It was a horrible sight and my mother totally lost it. The nurses hurried us out and a code was called. I was certain he was dead and the nurses seemed to feel the same way. My mother was inconsolable as was my sister. I called my brother and then Robert to let them know what happened.

After about 20 minutes, the doctors came out and told us he'd actually stabilized, but that things did not look promising. We went in and my mom was trying desperately to get him to wake up. For some reason when I left the house I’d put on my blessed scapular. My dad had always been a big believer in the promise of a peaceful death if someone wears one when they pass on. I took mine off and put around his neck. I wanted to be sure he had that added help even if he couldn’t ask for it himself. The priest had been called and he came quickly. He’d already given my dad the anointing of the sick on many previous occasions, but he came prepared to do it again for him. Father West knows us all and is always a very kind man. He saw the scapular and asked who put it on him. I told him I did because I knew he’d have wanted that himself if he could. He told me that I had given him a great gift which of course made me break down. He gave him the anointing and then we started a long vigil at the bedside. We stayed all day and late into the night. They were giving him a lot of meds to help ease his symptoms, but because we were all in the medical field, all three of us knew what the end result would be.
Christmas night at midnight we tried to get my mom to consider going home to get some sleep but she adamantly refused. We finally decided that my sister and I would go home and catch some sleep while mom slept in the sleeper chair next to my dad’s bed. We went back to my parent’s home to get some things for my mom and then tried to sleep. Neither of us wanted to be alone in those rooms so I slept on the recliner and she slept on the couch. We had a few hours sleep then cleaned up and headed back to the hospital.
My mom looked near dead herself after a very fragmented sleep. We went to the cafeteria and got some food and coffee. Mom wouldn’t eat much but had some coffee. The vigil continued and we discussed what arrangements needed to be made. The doctors finally came in around lunch and told us this could go on for some time. I finally convinced my mom to go home with us so she could get some rest and get cleaned up. We got back to my sister’s house and my mom went right to sleep.
A couple of hours later the hospital called to say my dad had passed away. My mother felt bad that she’d “left him” there, but we tried to get her to see that my dad did not want her there when he passed and so waited until she was home to spare her. She pulled herself together and we went up to the hospital to see him before they transferred him to the funeral home.
The hospital staff had all done a beautiful job of preparing him for us to see. We went in and spent a few hours just “being“with him there. Then the staff did something I’ve rarely seen done on a medical unit. Almost all the staff who worked with him from PT’s to nurse’s aides to RN’s came in to pay their respects, and nearly all were in tears. He’d made a great impression on them and they were truly moved by his loss. I was very impressed and thankful to them for their work and the tremendous support they’d showed both my parents. We then gathered up all his personal effects and headed home.

And that’s how things occurred as I remember them last year at this time. I want to remember my dad, but especially how he met his death with incredible dignity and bravery. I know he’s in heaven, whatever that may ultimately be, and that he’s waiting there for my mom when her time has come. I only hope that if I, God forbid, are met with the same challenges that I will face it in a way that he taught me.