Fifteen years ago. Wow, it just doesn't seem that long ago. I was in the middle of graduate school. Dad had been struggling somewhat with his cancer when I received a phone call that he was in the hospital. I sped down to Searcy from Springdale, AR to find him in traction. I said, "Did you fall?" Mom looked at me and said, "His hip is broken." The cancer had eaten right through the bone in his hip and it couldn't support his weight anymore.
The doctor decided that in order for his quality of life, he needed to have his hip fixed with a pin placed in his leg. The surgery took awhile and he was wheeled back into the room. I noticed that something didn't look right on his leg. Basically, the rod the doctor placed was not in the right position. He decided to take him back into surgery. His heart couldn't take it. It was beating around 160-180 beats per minute and Dad was in a coma. What we didn't realize was that the cancer was all through him. One of my doctor friends described his chest x-ray as "it looks like someone has shot him in the chest with a shotgun. His ribs are just pocked with holes where the cancer has eaten through.
Three of us four boys were there. We called Charles, the missionary in France and told him he'd better get here as soon as he could. We told Dad, even in the coma, "Hang in there, Big Guy, Charles is on his way." Charles had no longer arrived and seen Dad when within an hour or an hour and a half, he died. He was waiting on the last son. That was July 8, 1993.
I've missed him. There have been many times when I wanted to ask him about things in my life. There have been times when I just wanted to tell him something. I have to admit, that's the selfish part of me. These last 15 years have seemed like nothing to him. He's in the presence of God praising his name, greeting those coming in, probably telling his corny jokes, waiting for me. Waiting for the rest of us. I wouldn't take that from him for anything. In fact, that's what he ingrained into me. I guess so I would pass it on. So there you have it, Dad. I've passed it on on this day, July 8, 2008. Can't wait to meet up with you again. It'll happen.
1 comment:
My father passed away in 1974 and the final moments were similar to your story. I was the last to arrive at this side. Although he seemed to be unconscious and showed no indication that he was aware of my presence, he was gone within fifteen minutes. We, like your family, are convinced that he hung on until I got there.
My mother had died suddenly in 1966 about an hour before I got to the hospital. I carried a lot of guilt over the years for not being able to tell her one last time how much I loved her. Then a group called Shenandoah recorded a song called "Momma Knows".
It's amazing how some words can help remove so much pain. Hopefully your words in this story will help at least one person deal with his or her loss.
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