Gentle November 3, 2009
I’m sitting at my dad’s bedside this afternoon, and right now the two of us have the room to ourselves. My mom finally agreed to go upstairs for a nap and my aunt Mary headed home for some rest and a shower. Neither one of them has left my dad’s side for more than a few minutes at a time recently, and my guess is that they’ll be back soon. The rest of my family is around too, some in the next room, and some outside getting a bit of fresh air. But for now, I sit in this room alone with my father, marking these moments in my memory.
Yesterday morning was difficult. My dad was in pain and nothing seemed to help. His pulse was fast, his breathing was raspy, and he couldn’t stop moving around in the bed. Finally, after multiple calls and visits from the hospice nurses, a continuous care nurse arrived, and by 5pm or so, my dad had settled into a deep sleep. Our nurse said she thought the end would come soon, maybe that evening or during the night, but of course, no one except God knows for sure when that moment will happen. We all gathered around his bed and took turns praying for him and thanking him for loving and taking care of us. We passed around plenty of Kleenex.
But we haven’t just been crying. We’ve been laughing too, and telling lots of stories, and looking through old photo albums. The babies have been in and out of my dad’s room, chattering away like they always do. Last night neighbors brought us creamy chicken and rice soup, bread from Panera, fresh apples, and chocolate chip cookies. No one wanted to go upstairs to bed; most of us drifted off in our chairs instead. Throughout the night, my dad remained in the same quiet position that he is still in now. His blood pressure is extremely low and his pulse is faint, but he continues to sleep peacefully, taking in slow, shallow breaths.
My dad is dying and that in itself is awful, almost too much to stand. But that horrible pain from yesterday morning seems to have faded, at least for now. We are hoping and praying that his last breath will be peaceful, and right now it seems like that is a very real possibility. My family is still together, and we’ve all had plenty of time to hug and kiss my dad, and to say goodbye. The tears and the laughter are both sweet in their own way. How gentle of God to give us both.
It amazes me when you and your mother write your thoughts and emotions while going through such a grieveous thing. I don’t think I could be that brave and open. Each one of you shine the grace, strength and peace of the Lord overflowing out of you which glorifies the Lord even in the depth of your pain. I am so glad that each one of you had the opportunity to say your good-byes and to be able to laugh together as you share family memories. All of you are continually on our mind and we whisper prayers without ceasing for each one of you. We hope Nate will wake up in heaven soon and no longer experience any more pain. Much love to you and your family.
Oh Linnea, I can’t do much more than echo what Mom wrote, but please know how much you are all loved and in our prayers. Thank you so much for allowing God to speak through you (and most certainly your Mom) in the midst of such pain. Your openness and willingness is evidence of how our Heavenly Father is already at work making “all things beautiful” out of what seems irredeemably ugly. This is only the beginning, He won’t waste or ignore ONE tear or sigh out of your spirits. Praying He fills you each with infathomable hope that can’t be shaken. Much, much love.
– Aron
There is something to be said for the beauty that shines through the pain of death; the beauty comes from a loving family gathered around – praying together, loving each other, and honoring your father, treasuring his life and memories. I pray that this time together will bring you all immeasurable peace while facing the grief of loss. love you.
Thank you so much for your willingness to share the “inside story” with us. Your descriptions have made me feel like I am in these places with you and I am learning so much. Bringing death into focus as you have challenges me to make more of my life today and take better care of my relationships. I would guess I am not alone in that! Thank you for your openness and honesty. May God continue to use your suffering to teach us about our frailty and His power.
With love and prayers…
Dear Linnea,
You have written beautifully about your personal reflections, the devotion of your parents to one another and their family. Your faith shines through each line, as does your admiration and love for your mother and father. The time you have been given to be together at your father’s side is indeed a gift. You mentioned the tears and the laughter together. So often sorrow and joy seem to track side by side. It was a blessing to read how your family is experiencing times of sharing precious memories of the past, and the normality of life that children bring, even in the midst of these heartbreaking hours. Your father is surrounded by those he loves the most. It could very well be that your presence and all that you are sharing with him and each other is contributing to his extrodinary peaceful state, which the nurse observed, (shared by Louisa this morning). My husband and I are holding you up before the Lord, with the confidence that He is holding all of you in His everlasting arms.
Linnea…I echo what Aron and Terry have written…you and your mom share a gift that is so very special…and through this short,intense & trying time…have given us a glimpse into your hearts and the affect it will have on those who have witnessed…you may never know…but God does. His BLESSED ASSURANCE OF LIFE DEVINE – IN HIM…is comforting to those left on earth..and reality to Nate. What a memory-maker for all of you – this is.
cherish it, sweetheart..it has been – a ‘miracle healing’…of itself…you will come to understand in time. Love you dearly…GG
Linnea,
I dont know what to say…you and your family are covered in God’s Grace and I pray and thank God for the time He has given you with your father. You are such a blessing to all of us and your willingness to share your faith during this time is amazing. Just know i love you and I keep your family in my prayers everyday. May God bless your family in these coming weeks. I know He will!
Linnea, you and your family have been so brave through this trial. Thank you for sharing your journey with us. I am so sorry for the loss of your beloved dad. “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee”. Love, Lori