She couldn't live without him...

It was only 10 days. Dad died and Mom followed him 10 days later. It's still hard to believe that they're both gone - one a few days before Thanksgiving, the other a few days after.

Mom, I believed, only needed a few days rest and she would be fine. In my heart I knew she wasn't fine for some time. You can lose a parent in more ways than through death. Thinking back, it seems I lost Mom years ago when she started have trouble hearing, then when her memory began to fail. It's hard to sit and talk when one is missing so much of the conversation. Maybe that was more the problem than her memory. She simply didn't hear what was going on around her and she was left in the periphery of all that went on around her. Dad bought her a wonderful appliance to help her with this problem; she threw the hearing aid away, refused to use it. Is it possible that hearing goes on and off like a light? I wonder because sometimes it seemed as though she could hear just fine.

I wasn't with her when she died. I was in PA for Dad's death and funeral, then drove home after Thanksgiving. I thought I would return in a few weeks and find her if not up and around, at least more her old self. But it was not to be. Two days after returning home, the call came to tell me she would not be there in a few weeks; would not be there ever again.

I made the sad trip North once more. I was there to view her earthly remains, to get love and support, and to give the same to my siblings and friends.

Death is always a surprise. I went North to be with Dad knowing he was dying. The death was a shock nonetheless. I returned home not knowing Mom was dying. The death was an unexpected shock.

Life goes on, but I have thought of them everyday. Sometimes I would smile, but only briefly because the memory would fade to the reality of their deaths. You hear that times heals. I wonder how much time it takes?

Losing Dad

Death is even more final than I believed. When you keep a vigil at someone's side, you know the inevitable is coming, but I don't think you can ever be prepared for that final moment when someone you love dearly ceases to be. There on the bed remains his earthly body that transported his soul for so long. Then, in one final breath, the body becomes a shell and the spirit of the man you knew and loved your entire life moves on to a new life...and you cannot be part of that life. My mind understands, but my heart does not.

I believe in heaven and I know Dad did, too. He was a spiritual man, consistent in prayer. Yet he was always understated; his prayers private as he sat reclining in his comfortable chair. He prayed for his parents, brothers, and sisters who all went before him. I imagine him now wrapped in the comfort of their welcoming love. Dad may never be proclaimed a saint, but he certainly is an angel.

Perhaps, I muse, God arranged it all (as God does). Dad died on the 6th birthday of his great-grandson. I imagine him as Jayce's very own guardian angel taking over from whichever angel previously held that slot. I don't think he could have a better one than Dad.

Things might have been so different. Each step that led me to Dad's side was hesitant...making the decision to go when there seemed no urgency...choosing the day to leave when so much made me want to stay...going to visit the day I arrived even though all my body wanted to do was sleep...choosing to stay at his side while everyone slept. A different decision at any juncture would have made things so different. We really are being guided day by day, but we don't recognize it until times like this.

Being at his side as he breathed his last breath was the saddest thing I've ever experienced, but I followed the right path even though I didn't know it at the time. The next few days will be a test of my endurance as we welcome family and friends who will come to offer their sympathy and condolences. My grief is new, but my faith gives me confidence. I will cry with my family and friends, but in my heart, I am at peace.