date: Dec. 7, 2008
subject: The “end” is near . . .
Dear wonderful Girlfriends,
Dad’s course really took a turn on Thursday . . . he has begun his journey and the “end” is near. Jan, Hannah and I (the three sisters) are here in the room (Jan brought her computer, turned it on and found that there is Wi-Fi here) and we’re staying the night together.
Earlier, the entire family (the four kids; my husband, Tony; Dwight, Hannah’s husband; Mom and Dad’s best friend, Reese) gathered around Dad and sang songs, read Psalms 121 (Dad’s favorite) and #130. We then each shared many, many good memories. It was truly beautiful.
Then we sat down to a dinner of salad and hamburgers that Dayton brought (we hadn’t had a “real” meal all day and everyone was ravenous). We obviously don’t know when Dad will go . . . but we feel it’ll be when things quiet down. Mom said very comforting words to Dad including, “I know you’re tired Clyde. It’s okay to go . . . we’re all fine, you don’t need to worry about us.”
Yes, of course I’ll miss my Dad; but at this moment, I can’t help but feel so very thankful for the good, long life he’s had. He has obviously touched so MANY people. What a gift my siblings and I have had to have him as a father. I will carry him in my heart forever . . . when he was ill and I was still at home, I carried him perched on a pedestal in my heart as I went for bike rides . . . now I feel like he’ll have a permanent place there.
Love to you all and mahalo for your many, many wonderful and caring emails.
Susan
p.s. There’s one story I didn’t share . . . our last “picnic” with Dad.
Tony was driving Dad and Mom from the Patricial Neal Rehab center in downtown Knoxville to St. Mary’s hospice facility in the north part of town. Jan and I were in Dad’s Subaru Baja truck. Jan had asked Dad if he wanted to stop at a drive-through for lunch. “No, “ he adamantly replied, “I want to go straight there.” But after we passed a Wendy’s, Jan’s cell phone rang. “Dad wants to stop for lunch,” Mom said. We all turned around and pulled into a Wendy’s.
We parked side-by-side and went inside to order lunch. It was a beautifully clear day (amazing how that has happened on the days when Dad’s been in transit . . . it’s been so cold and rainy on all the other days). Tony, Jan and I piled into the back of Mom’s Toyota Avalon. Mom sat in the driver’s seat and Dad in the front passenger seat.
First Dad devoured (and I mean devoured) his chili. “Yum, this is good!” he said. Then he devoured his burger. Again, “Yum!” Next followed the frosty and a milk. At one point I said in my typical optimistic way, “This is fun!” Dad burst out laughing. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel him thinking, “You always have so much fun Susan doing the simplest things.”
That was our last picnic with Dad. What a gift!
That was on Wednesday the 3rd. Later that same afternoon he said he was tired. He’s been sleeping ever since. The two booklets that Hospice has on hand have been incredibly helpful in describing the journey he’s currently on. And reading them, we realized that he had begun the journey several weeks earlier. I think my Dad in his ever tenacious way had been giving every moment ALL of his energy. Once he arrived here he could feel (I think) this special place’s spirituality and that he had arrived at a safe haven. What a gift we have been given. May this and all hospice facilities continue to be blessed for the wonderful care and compassion they provide so many people.
Love to you all