In the past month, We have lost four friends. Knowing as we age, we will experience this loss more. I thought back to deaths in John’s and my own families.
John’s Dad, Albert was the first to die. He had emphysema and kidney damage. It was a long degenerative condition. He had many bouts of breathing difficulties. He used oxygen .
John’s last memory of his Dad was during one of these breathing bouts.
“Dad, Make up your mind. Do you need to go to the hospital? I have to go and milk the cows.”
Dad decided to go to the hospital. John called his mom, Helen to relate the news.
Mom, I took Dad to the hospital. “He didn’t look good, you better come home.”
When Helen arrived at the hospital, Dad was sitting in bed and talking.
“I need a pair of slippers.”
Helen went to buy a pair. Upon returning, she found that he had died.
My Mom, Rita, had a heart attack at home. When she was admitted to the hospital, they found her lung capacity was limited. She slowly deteriorated over the next year.
Before Mother’s Day, all of the children decided to visit her that weekend. Rita rallied and was able to have lively conversations with each of us. Her mouth and tongue were covered with ulcers, making it painful to eat or drink. Mom asked me to hold the cup for her. She was aware and batted my hand aside as I spilled water on her night gown.
My brother Mike was the best at giving her water. He spoke softly and was careful not to touch her sore lips.
We returned the next day to find that Mom had passed just before we arrived. She was sitting watching TV with Dad.
“Bruce, I really love you.”
Dad watching the news replied,
“I love you too dear.” She slipped from this world before the sports report.
Sadly my brother Mike died several years ago after a battle with stomach cancer. He had many bouts of chemo before he succumbed.
John’s Mon, Helen had hospice for bladder cancer. She was able to stay with us until the last month of her life. She had made arrangements to have care in an assisted living center. Once there, she had a quick decline, except for the phone conversation with her son Gene.
“Gene, when are you coming to visit?”
“Mom, I am in Roseville, you are in Grand Rapids, it is too long of a trip.”
After that call, Helen, died shortly after Christmas. She was at peace the last time we visited her.
My Dad was able to stay in his home with help from my brother Brian and his family. Living next door to him, they were able to keep a close watch on him.
Dad had a growth or pocket in his throat. This made it difficult to swallow. He ate less and drank Ensure and other liquids . He was weak and fell, after that he had to have help to stand, walk and use the bathroom. Brian would sleep on the floor in his room to be available to help him in the night.
He was taken to the hospital where he soon died watching the sunrise from his bed.
We refer to a “good death.” We can prepare for death by living each day well. Finding people and tasks that keep us engaged and involved. Prayer and meditation is a part of my daily routine. As one person commented,
Live each day as if it is your last, for someday it will be.”
Live with purpose, die well and at peace.
Carolaspot@aol.com
January 22, 2024
Going Home
walks through shadows
path cleared to welcome
travelers
traveling up and down the blind highway 