10-03-1947 - 01-23-2010
When death robs us of a loved one unexpected we are quickly reminded of our own mortality. The pain swells and overtakes us, the guilt of lost time and family squabbles inevitably raises its ugly head at the wrong time. Today I am deeply pained for my wife who lost her father just a few short hours ago. We were at the Hospital sitting in a conference room listening to the Doctor and Surgeon who cared for my Father-in Law tell my wife and her younger brother Tommy that there just was not any hope of Bill to recover from extensive brain injuries received in a vehicle wreck almost one week prior to the hour. All week long we reached deep inside us to muster up as much faith as possible to believe he would somehow overcome his severe injuries. Just this morning we woke up to go to my wife’s store and both of us talked about how good we felt about the possibilities of her father Bill making a recovery. We often commented on his brute toughness and the many close calls he had survived over the years. Needless to say we fed each others faith and built up enough hope to keep each other encouraged. After being in the store for about an hour my wife’s cell phone rang and she answered. She immediately wept and fell apart when she learned that her father had two massive strokes during the night. Her brother informed her that the Doctors were encouraging the family to meet at the Hospital. Once we all were there we learned that each side of Bill’s brain had had a stroke which left him mostly brain dead. The decision had to be made whether to leave him as he were on life support, or remove him and let him go. I knew my wife was suffering along with her brother, uncles and cousins and I sat silently as I listened to the decisions being made. It broke my heart. Still though, deep inside I had a nagging desire that a little more time should be given despite the news we were just told of his condition with very little odds in his favor barring a miracle. Was it faith or was it selfishness? I wondered and found myself unable to answer. Was it just Bill’s time to go, or was it fate that he chose to drive only a few miles down the same road he lived on to pick up dinner for himself and wrecking upon his return? He was so close to home and very healthy and here we are a week later and my children take turns to say goodbye to the last Grandfather they will ever have with tears streaming down their sweet faces with looks of anything but understanding on their countenance. I stayed in the waiting area until my youngest daughter came in crying. I held her and comforted her as another family member came to get me. I went back to Bill’s room to comfort my wife. She became very sick and I had to drive her home immediately and did not realize until she told me that after my youngest daughter told her Grandfather that she loved him, the nurse took her from the room to me and my wife watched as her father took his last breath and passed away. I like to think that the last words Bill heard was of his youngest Granddaughter telling him that she loved him and he left this earth with Abbie Gail’s words in his ears and soul. My wife told me that she felt he waited until all those he wanted to see him off had come to say goodbye and he was ready to leave with all the love he needed to part this world with. I am grateful that his room was filled with love as those who were in his room were also filled with love. Death is always sad, especially the unexpected death that sometimes sneaks upon us. It is a reminder that we are only temporary on this earth, in our bodies and each of us should prepare ourselves for our own time because we cannot predict when it will be. Before we left the Hospital tonight my son asked me how long it hurts when someone you love dies. I could only tell him the truth and I simply told him that you never stop hurting for those you love when they die. You never stop missing them. At least that has been true with those family members I have lost. But you also never stop loving them. What a joy it will be when we all meet again in Heaven. That is our hope!
