Sunday, April 18, 2010

a lifetime of lessons on his last day of life

my papa's last day is not one i like to think about.. but there are parts of it that i have to think about...that give me strength

he woke up in the morning and we knew it would be a different day because he wasn't able to get out of bed for the first time...he spent the morning in and out of one point he called me close to him and gave me a message to tell everyone "just thank you, just thank you, just thank you" about 7pm. my aunt, who was a retired hospice nurse said that it would be a matter of minutes... his breathing was shallow.. he was non-responsive... we prayed and sang to him.. hours passed and he was still there... we took turns sitting with him.. sharing memories.. while it was a hard time.. sad.. there were tears... but there was also laughter... and more importantly...togetherness...

at midnight my cousin and brother put on papa's rodeo gear and took his cowbells out to announce the new year (this was papa's idea... days before he told my cousin that he could ring in the new year.. literally) the boys jumped in a convertible and we cheered them on...i cried and laughed at the same time... i was so sad that papa was in bed and possibly wasn't aware of what the boys were doing... and happy that they were doing what he'd wanted them to do....

more hours passed and at about 3am my brother and i went to lay down.. we left him with kisses and constant reassurances that it was okay for him to go... a half hour later we were woken up... he had passed... i will always believe he waited for his kids to leave the room... he didn't want us to hang on to him as he let us go....

i will take what i've learned for that day and put it to use for the rest of my life... appreciate those you love.. never fail to thank them.. to love them... and above all LIVE... live life... be crazy.. ring those proverbial cow bells every day... let everyone are alive... that you are life!

1 comment:

  1. this reminds me of my dad's passing also. The nurse told us sometimes they like it quiet to pass. We all left the room, but could still see him, and then he passed. I know and feel your pain. Not a hour goes by where I don't feel the sting of my dad's death.