Dad was growing more and more weak. He wasn't able to take in the proper nutrition anymore and the cancer in his throat was making it impossible to swallow. They went to a center in West Virginia, and from there to a hospital in Winchester Virginia. The Thursday he was admitted, mom thought he was going to pass. But he sat up at one point and said something about wanting to take his grandchildren fishing. By the time
we all arrived his hands were warm again. They put him on IV, but he was still very hungry. (It just breaks my heart to think that he spent most of his days this summer not being able to eat his fill. Especially his last month) They did a cat scan and a few other tests. The tumor in his head showed that it was pushing against his brain. In the end though, it was the cancer in his esophagus that took his life. He was in the hospital from Thursday - Monday. We all spent 24 hours all together, then from there we took 24 hour shifts. Dave & I went down on Sunday afternoon, and then brought them home to hospice center in Mount Joy on Monday, October 23. Its a very nice quiet place, they did a very good job at keeping him comfortable a pain free.
The days at the hospice center are just kind of a blur... it was hard, but a joy to sit there with him, hold his hand. We sang, we read him his favorite bible verses. Somedays I felt numb, other days I felt impatient with God. But over and over I had a choice, the choice to say "God you are good, God I trust that Your ways are best." They took off his IV on Wednesday, as they said it will do more harm than good as his organs won't be able to process the fluids as they shut down. He didn't swallow anything for 16 days, but was on IV for 6 of those 16 days. He was in the hospice center 12 days and then he went to be with Jesus on Sunday November 5th, around 12:30 A.M. mom and Sara Ann were sleeping, mom beside him on the couch holding his hand. Something woke Sara Ann up just in time to see him take his last breath.
He didn't talk at all soon after he was at the hospice center. And his last several days he was too weak to even squeeze our hands. It was so hard when he tried to tell us what something, and we couldn't figure it out... but I am so thankful that we did have the opportunity to say good by, to say I love you, to say thanks, thank for being the best dad ever. Even though he could respond, I know He heard.
I can't really describe the feeling of being told dad is gone. Relief that he's no longer just laying there, dying of starvation. But the pain of imagining a future with dad not in it still makes the tears flow. But oh the hope! That blessed assurance of knowing he is safe at home with his Jesus! I can so easily imagine, in my earthly mind that is, him worshipping and praising God! Walking those golden streets, and having a glorious reunion with those who have gone on before! Most of all, I can picture dad the way he used to be before the cancer shriveled his body down to skin and bones. He was strong and tall! And that's how I see him! Tall, dark and handsome! Oh Dad, I will always miss you here...
His viewing was at Gap View Church on Sunday evening. The funeral was on Monday, at 1:00. With the burial at Gap View as well. It was cloudy and rainy, but as we trailed out to the graveyard the sun was shining so bright! It felt like a hug from God.
Just a few things I want to remember:
In the hospital he asked us to sing God is so Good. He helped along, his voice raspy, and quiet. Tapping his chest as he said those words, "God is so good, He's so good to me"
He would thank God over and over for His blood. Raising his hands in praise to God. Repeating the promises over and over.
He would ask every new nurse that came in, "do you know Jesus?"
A few of his favorite scriptures were Psalm 103, and Psalm 91.
I miss holding his hand...
I miss this man
June, 2017
March, 2016
July, 2014
He wasn't granted healing this side of heaven, like we'd all be praying, believing and hoping for. (Yes, sometimes I ask God why!) But
He fought a good fight, he kept the faith. he has finished his race. To live is Christ, to die is gain.
I want to carry on his legacy to my children. They won't remember much of dad, that's hard. But it's so much more important that they know Jesus. (Sometimes we just need to put things in the right prospective! )
He was a giver. A server. A behind the scenes type of guy. Steady. :)
I am so grateful that He knew Jesus. So grateful that he "showed" me Jesus. He was a "rock" for us children, when things got shakey, he never griped. Just counted his blessings and chose love.
"O gentle one we miss you here
Sweet form we loved so well
But in our Father's better care
We know the child is well."
Isaiah 65:17
For behold, I create new heavens and a new earth; And the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind
Tomorrow we plan to get together for Thanksgiving... without dad. he's actually not going to be there. How is this even real?
Dad, "I'll meet you in the morning,
with a "how do you do", and we'll sit down, by the river and with rapture old acquaintance renew.
You'll know me in the morning by the smile that I wear, and I'll meet you in the morning, in that city that is built for square. " this song holds a special memory... I sang it to him before I went home one evening, as I left there was a tear in his eye. A little bitty piece of me will never be complete here on earth!
