Change in Course
One never knows exactly where time or life will take them. It is a mystery in almost every way. Some things are somewhat predictable though the details remain clouded until the right time. I am actually grateful for that as if we knew all of the facts in advance it may drive us away from rather than through the storms.
Yesterday we buried our father. An honorable man, honest, gentle and kind. A "perfect gentleman" as reported by many of his co-workers who wrote about him this past week.
Following his hip fracture and repair he seemed to be doing well, but suffered an apparent stroke that led to the rapid spiral downward. Throughout his life he had a sense of humor and tolerance for any situation. He never complained. And this was the case even as his abilities became more limited including speech. Rarely opening his eyes, he would grunt when you asked him a questions. "Dale, are you hungry?" "Dale, do you want soup?" "Dale, do you want potatoes?" Grunt, that was difficult to distinguish between yes and no. "Dale, do you want a hot dog?" Grunt....only with a fluctuation in tone. "How many?" Two fingers go up. Two hot dogs. Can't open his eyes or give us a solid yes or no, but he wants his very favorite food. I was able to feed him his last hot dog dinner. He ate every bite.
With the change to his condition my family began to travel in to see him. The leader of our family and our wise counselor throughout our lives was now reduced to a grunt and maybe a nod. By his nod or tight grasp of the hand we knew he was aware of our presence even if we could not get other acknowledgments. His delightful memory care director Sara or 'boss' as he so often referred to her, along with his favorite visitor Pam and pet therapy dog Emily were able to come and feed him his favorite chocolate pudding the night before he passed.
It would be the next morning we got 'the call' that his condition had changed. I was at the far corners of the earth or at least valley as it would happen. Mom was at the hairdresser and my sister and her husband were at the hotel. Sure. I headed back with the plan to pic up mom. Linda and Homer headed up to his room. My mom knew the moment I arrived it was dad. We gathered at his side. Certainly he was on the road home. Not what we had hoped for six weeks ago when he entered rehab. Not where we thought we would be two years ago when he had his stroke. Definitely not what we expected five years ago when they moved to Arizona. When reflecting on the past several years, a definite change in course from where we started, from the vision we had, from the list of what we expected. It is not that it is completely bad, just very unexpected.
After a time together I sent my family and mother away while I took the first watch. I sent a few emails to work so they would know where I was. The room was quiet, no good noise. Then I remembered I had a Christmas CD on my iPad. I told my dad I would play that as it is beautiful music. I turned it on. immediately he relaxed, breathing easier, smoother. The hospice social worker arrived. I placed my hand on his arm. The second song, O Come All Ye Faithful began. Before that classic first invitational line completed, my father passed. No struggle, no signs of pain, no fear. Quiet, peaceful, sleep. Wonderful!
Oh Come All Ye Faithful by Casting Crowns
Not what I envisioned. Not how I had planned. Not what I have seen dozens of times before. A different experience. Unexpected yet pleasantly surprised. The social worker even commented that she never sees this smooth transition or 'takeoff'. I sat there for some time, sad yet relieved. He died as he lived, without a battle. He was not afraid. He had a change in course, he was now home. Eternally safe, sound, happy, healed, rejoicing, celebrating with angels. Home! As in the song by Chris Tomlin I Willl Rise he is hearing the voices of many angels and longing hearts singing. He had great joy in the here and now, but he was waiting, ready for a change in course. In a way, his journey has just begun!
Lt Col Dale E Jackson (Ret)
Yesterday we buried our father. An honorable man, honest, gentle and kind. A "perfect gentleman" as reported by many of his co-workers who wrote about him this past week.
Following his hip fracture and repair he seemed to be doing well, but suffered an apparent stroke that led to the rapid spiral downward. Throughout his life he had a sense of humor and tolerance for any situation. He never complained. And this was the case even as his abilities became more limited including speech. Rarely opening his eyes, he would grunt when you asked him a questions. "Dale, are you hungry?" "Dale, do you want soup?" "Dale, do you want potatoes?" Grunt, that was difficult to distinguish between yes and no. "Dale, do you want a hot dog?" Grunt....only with a fluctuation in tone. "How many?" Two fingers go up. Two hot dogs. Can't open his eyes or give us a solid yes or no, but he wants his very favorite food. I was able to feed him his last hot dog dinner. He ate every bite.
With the change to his condition my family began to travel in to see him. The leader of our family and our wise counselor throughout our lives was now reduced to a grunt and maybe a nod. By his nod or tight grasp of the hand we knew he was aware of our presence even if we could not get other acknowledgments. His delightful memory care director Sara or 'boss' as he so often referred to her, along with his favorite visitor Pam and pet therapy dog Emily were able to come and feed him his favorite chocolate pudding the night before he passed.
It would be the next morning we got 'the call' that his condition had changed. I was at the far corners of the earth or at least valley as it would happen. Mom was at the hairdresser and my sister and her husband were at the hotel. Sure. I headed back with the plan to pic up mom. Linda and Homer headed up to his room. My mom knew the moment I arrived it was dad. We gathered at his side. Certainly he was on the road home. Not what we had hoped for six weeks ago when he entered rehab. Not where we thought we would be two years ago when he had his stroke. Definitely not what we expected five years ago when they moved to Arizona. When reflecting on the past several years, a definite change in course from where we started, from the vision we had, from the list of what we expected. It is not that it is completely bad, just very unexpected.
After a time together I sent my family and mother away while I took the first watch. I sent a few emails to work so they would know where I was. The room was quiet, no good noise. Then I remembered I had a Christmas CD on my iPad. I told my dad I would play that as it is beautiful music. I turned it on. immediately he relaxed, breathing easier, smoother. The hospice social worker arrived. I placed my hand on his arm. The second song, O Come All Ye Faithful began. Before that classic first invitational line completed, my father passed. No struggle, no signs of pain, no fear. Quiet, peaceful, sleep. Wonderful!
Oh Come All Ye Faithful by Casting Crowns
Not what I envisioned. Not how I had planned. Not what I have seen dozens of times before. A different experience. Unexpected yet pleasantly surprised. The social worker even commented that she never sees this smooth transition or 'takeoff'. I sat there for some time, sad yet relieved. He died as he lived, without a battle. He was not afraid. He had a change in course, he was now home. Eternally safe, sound, happy, healed, rejoicing, celebrating with angels. Home! As in the song by Chris Tomlin I Willl Rise he is hearing the voices of many angels and longing hearts singing. He had great joy in the here and now, but he was waiting, ready for a change in course. In a way, his journey has just begun!
Lt Col Dale E Jackson (Ret)
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