...and because Dad stayed, we GOT TO SAY GOOD BYE.
On November 4th, Bob was in town to visit my mom who has been at Aster Memory Care for about 9 months now. I decided to invite Bob, Dad, Jeannie, Greg, and Raelee and Dan over for dinner. In all actuality, I invited everyone, but those were who could attend. Adam made some delicious chili and merriment was all around. Dad even walked in and hugged me that night (not that he wouldn't do that, but for some reason I really remember it...). We partook in Brandy Old Fashioned's and Margaritas and watching college football games. All was well. As seen below:
Raelee was enjoying her first "Legal" alcoholic drink with Grandpa. We were talking about Christmas and Thanksgiving when my dads last words were "Keep It Simple"-but they were very slurred. I went over to Jeannie and I said, "is something wrong with dad?" and she said "I didn't understand anything he just said." So I went behind the couch and touched him and said "hey, dad...are you ok?" and he seemed confused, but more so, his left side was not functioning at all. His left eye was closing, his mouth was droopy, his left arm was not working etc...I looked at Adam and he said "I'll call 911." Raelee did a quick stroke check on him and yes...it was characteristically a stroke.
He was picked up by an ambulance a short time later and taken to UW Hospital. Greg and Jeannie and Dan followed the ambulance, Bob and I ran to Hummingbird Lane to get his meds. And this is where everything starts to blur...
surgery, TPA drug, hemorraging on the wrong side of the brain which the surgery occured, his warfin probably not being a high enough dose to prevent this...
But the Good Lord decided that Rhode's last day was to be lived exactly the way dad would have wanted. With 4 out of the 6 kids surrounding him and laughing and joking. At 7pm while at my house Dad had said "well, I really need to get going so I can watch the Molly B Polka show." We all made fun of him a bit and then said, "Come on Dad, you have 4 out of 6 kids here with you.." And he stayed...and because Dad stayed, we GOT TO SAY GOOD BYE. Seriously, this is the Lord, right? He could have been on the Beltline OR at home by himself (which is what he was 98% of his time). But on Nov 4th, at 8pm, he was sitting on MY COUCH, enjoying his supposed last meal. With Bob here. With Dan here. With Jeannie here. He gave one last pony ride to Colin on his foot.
While we were in the hospital all night talking with doctors and surgeons and each other and Doug/Sandi via phone, we made the decision that losing all 4 parts of the brain from massive bleeding would not lead to a good quality of life. Over and over I kept thinking and finally had the nerve to say "All of us ask that when we have to die that we go quickly, that it be as pain free as possible, and who are we to stand in the way of this gift that was given to Dad today." Just because we weren't ready to say good bye, doesn't mean that it wasn't the Lord's Plan, correct?
To be fair, this doesn't make the pain on the living any less severe. This doesn't make us question life and death and faith any less. BUT-this is what it gave us....it gave us 24 hours to gather all 6 kids and spouses together. 24 hours to stand around his ICU unit and pray and tell funny stories. Gave us 24 hours to see who has Dad's laugh (I do, Raelee....and more...). And what is more important than that time together?
An unusual thing happened to Mom on the evening of Nov 4th as well, in the middle of the night. She started shouting for Rhode. And the caretaker came and prayed with her, for Rhode. What is that space called between earth and heaven...where you can transcend the earth? I don't know if there is a name, but Dad did that night.
And another miracle--has been mom lately. She is trapped in her brain by this dumb disease called Alzheimer's. But if mom doesn't have a sixth sense, then I am not sure who does. I go to visit her on Friday the week after people had all left. And I walk in and she says "Hi Nicki" and "Hi kids"-she hasn't said this in awhile. And she was talking in complete sentences and feeding herself (mostly). And while I had spent the whole week mourning that I no longer had a parent to talk to...there she was. Alert. Talking. And the Rock that she is. I went home with a huge sense of relief. Although I realize ultimately her condition is terminal too. But for now, she is here.
And more blessings. We found letters, and mom's funeral plans, and stuff that mom had written about her life as we cleaned out the Hummingbird House. It was amazing. I am still delighted to read all of this. If I can give one piece of advice...write. Write, so your adults kids can get to know you when your brain may not be all there. Write, so that the friendship that you so badly wanted as an adult with your parents is stripped away because of your own ego and selfishness. Write, so that your child can see his/her self in you someday. Mom did this. I wish that Dad had.
The holidays are a little more blue this year. Of course we keep a strong face and maintain traditions for our children. But a large part is missing. Time will heal all wounds, surely, and the Lord will help immensely. But I am beginning to learn that death isn't sad or scary for the dying, it is sad for the living.
As I reflect upon myself-I try to remember what qualities I took from each parent.
From Dad: My passion for music, exercise and fitness, financial conservatism, love of the Badgers, and willingness to work hard and be busy-and probably stubbornness (says by husband)
From Mom: my sacrifice of my career for my children/husband, my looks, my liberal social views (she was a Kennedy fan!), my love of the city, my sixth sense for my children, and my extroverted nature.
As I say goodbye to one parent; I am truly blessed. My brothers, sister, and I got the most unselfish parents, who didn't play mind games, who loved and supported us through various trials, who let us go and then return when needed. I love you dearly Dad. I will miss you, but I think that you have prepared me to continue to live a life in your likeness. Enjoy Jesus and all the wonders of Life after Death. I look forward to reuniting with you....in 65 years!
Raelee was enjoying her first "Legal" alcoholic drink with Grandpa. We were talking about Christmas and Thanksgiving when my dads last words were "Keep It Simple"-but they were very slurred. I went over to Jeannie and I said, "is something wrong with dad?" and she said "I didn't understand anything he just said." So I went behind the couch and touched him and said "hey, dad...are you ok?" and he seemed confused, but more so, his left side was not functioning at all. His left eye was closing, his mouth was droopy, his left arm was not working etc...I looked at Adam and he said "I'll call 911." Raelee did a quick stroke check on him and yes...it was characteristically a stroke.
He was picked up by an ambulance a short time later and taken to UW Hospital. Greg and Jeannie and Dan followed the ambulance, Bob and I ran to Hummingbird Lane to get his meds. And this is where everything starts to blur...
surgery, TPA drug, hemorraging on the wrong side of the brain which the surgery occured, his warfin probably not being a high enough dose to prevent this...
But the Good Lord decided that Rhode's last day was to be lived exactly the way dad would have wanted. With 4 out of the 6 kids surrounding him and laughing and joking. At 7pm while at my house Dad had said "well, I really need to get going so I can watch the Molly B Polka show." We all made fun of him a bit and then said, "Come on Dad, you have 4 out of 6 kids here with you.." And he stayed...and because Dad stayed, we GOT TO SAY GOOD BYE. Seriously, this is the Lord, right? He could have been on the Beltline OR at home by himself (which is what he was 98% of his time). But on Nov 4th, at 8pm, he was sitting on MY COUCH, enjoying his supposed last meal. With Bob here. With Dan here. With Jeannie here. He gave one last pony ride to Colin on his foot.
While we were in the hospital all night talking with doctors and surgeons and each other and Doug/Sandi via phone, we made the decision that losing all 4 parts of the brain from massive bleeding would not lead to a good quality of life. Over and over I kept thinking and finally had the nerve to say "All of us ask that when we have to die that we go quickly, that it be as pain free as possible, and who are we to stand in the way of this gift that was given to Dad today." Just because we weren't ready to say good bye, doesn't mean that it wasn't the Lord's Plan, correct?
To be fair, this doesn't make the pain on the living any less severe. This doesn't make us question life and death and faith any less. BUT-this is what it gave us....it gave us 24 hours to gather all 6 kids and spouses together. 24 hours to stand around his ICU unit and pray and tell funny stories. Gave us 24 hours to see who has Dad's laugh (I do, Raelee....and more...). And what is more important than that time together?
An unusual thing happened to Mom on the evening of Nov 4th as well, in the middle of the night. She started shouting for Rhode. And the caretaker came and prayed with her, for Rhode. What is that space called between earth and heaven...where you can transcend the earth? I don't know if there is a name, but Dad did that night.
And another miracle--has been mom lately. She is trapped in her brain by this dumb disease called Alzheimer's. But if mom doesn't have a sixth sense, then I am not sure who does. I go to visit her on Friday the week after people had all left. And I walk in and she says "Hi Nicki" and "Hi kids"-she hasn't said this in awhile. And she was talking in complete sentences and feeding herself (mostly). And while I had spent the whole week mourning that I no longer had a parent to talk to...there she was. Alert. Talking. And the Rock that she is. I went home with a huge sense of relief. Although I realize ultimately her condition is terminal too. But for now, she is here.
And more blessings. We found letters, and mom's funeral plans, and stuff that mom had written about her life as we cleaned out the Hummingbird House. It was amazing. I am still delighted to read all of this. If I can give one piece of advice...write. Write, so your adults kids can get to know you when your brain may not be all there. Write, so that the friendship that you so badly wanted as an adult with your parents is stripped away because of your own ego and selfishness. Write, so that your child can see his/her self in you someday. Mom did this. I wish that Dad had.
The holidays are a little more blue this year. Of course we keep a strong face and maintain traditions for our children. But a large part is missing. Time will heal all wounds, surely, and the Lord will help immensely. But I am beginning to learn that death isn't sad or scary for the dying, it is sad for the living.
As I reflect upon myself-I try to remember what qualities I took from each parent.
From Dad: My passion for music, exercise and fitness, financial conservatism, love of the Badgers, and willingness to work hard and be busy-and probably stubbornness (says by husband)
From Mom: my sacrifice of my career for my children/husband, my looks, my liberal social views (she was a Kennedy fan!), my love of the city, my sixth sense for my children, and my extroverted nature.
As I say goodbye to one parent; I am truly blessed. My brothers, sister, and I got the most unselfish parents, who didn't play mind games, who loved and supported us through various trials, who let us go and then return when needed. I love you dearly Dad. I will miss you, but I think that you have prepared me to continue to live a life in your likeness. Enjoy Jesus and all the wonders of Life after Death. I look forward to reuniting with you....in 65 years!
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| Morel Mushrooms-whoever buys this house will have a surprise in the spring! |
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| First time in a kayak-up in the UP on Lake Superior |
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| Taking the boat tour to Pictured Rocks national Park |
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| Rowing with Colin on his homemade rowing apparatus. |
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