Category: Death

When the Unexpected Becomes Reality

 

I was at my neighbor’s house last Thursday morning as her movers were loading all of her belongings that she was moving to her new assisted living home.  I had run back over to our house to get Aaron and deliver him to meet his day group.  That’s when I got the text from Gary…..as I got Aaron off his computer, let Jackson out to do his business, and quickly checked to see if Aaron had taken his pills.  Gary’s text said, “I’m OK.  Small plane crashed on our building.”

 

What?!  I looked at the picture he sent, but the seriousness of the situation didn’t hit home with me even then.  I had no idea of how tragic and awful it really was.  But later, as we got Nora moved into her apartment, our other neighbor hooked up her television and turned on the local channel.  There was live coverage for the rest of the day……and I was so thankful that Gary had taken the time to text earlier to let me, Andrea, and Andrew know that he was safe.

 

Four people were killed, we found out as the day wore on……the pilot, and three people inside a simulator where the plane had crashed.  I couldn’t imagine the fear I would have experienced if I had not known that Gary was safe from the beginning.  My heart goes out to the families of those who died.  Who would ever imagine that you would go to work one day in Wichita and have your building hit by a plane?   Who would ever imagine getting that horrible visit from a chaplain bearing that terrible news?  And I knew it could easily have been me that received that news…..me that was left without a husband…..my kids left without their dad.

 

We don’t know, do we, what a day will hold.  A couple days before the plane crash, I was nearly involved in a serious car accident…..but it didn’t happen.  Gary could have been killed on Thursday in the FlightSafety building……but it didn’t happen.  What if it HAD happened, though?

 

Like it happened with Mary…..a mom I know who is in her early 30’s.  Less than two weeks ago, she was leaving a movie theater with her four young children, one a two month old, and she had a major stroke.

 

Like it happened with our good friends, David and Jennifer, the day after the plane crash.  David’s dad was scheduled to come home after routine pacemaker surgery, but instead that morning he suddenly died……without warning…..totally unexpected.

 

Like it happened that same day with other good friends whose daughter-in-law and two grandchildren were involved in a serious front end collision on their way to spend the weekend with a friend.  They survived, thank the Lord.

 

What do we do when the unthinkable DOES happen?  What do we do when the unexpected becomes our reality?

 

When we feel like we’ve been hit in the gut and we can’t breathe, the only thing to do is fall back into the arms of God.  How do we do THAT?  By making a conscious decision to trust Him, and to remember Who He is and what He has promised us.  Alec Motyer says, “When the trial comes that prompts the unbelieving ‘Why?’ we must rather drill our minds to hear the call for faith, to recall the Lord’s promises, and cast ourselves utterly onto the reliable rock of His Word.”

 

A couple days after the plane crash, a friend called me.  She was so thankful that Gary wasn’t killed or injured.  She made the comment that we all often hear…..”God is so good.”  And I have to ask myself…..if Gary had been killed or badly injured, could I still say, “God is so good?”  I pray that I could and that I would still declare the goodness of God no matter my personal outcomes, for God’s goodness doesn’t change because He might allow me to go through some tough times.  Paul told Timothy that God remains faithful, and I hope that through my pain and grief I would be able to say and believe the same.

 

This is why it’s so important to learn who God is now……to know his attributes BEFORE the traumas hit.  Our Wichita first responders had just participated in a mock plane crash drill a month before the plane hit FlightSafety.  This drill helped them be better prepared for the real thing.  Likewise, I know that I need to daily trust God in the many events of my life and to learn His character, so when the really hard times come I am better prepared to draw on what I have already learned about God.

 

“How blessed are all who take refuge in Him,” David said in the Psalms.

 

Not spared…..but blessed and held.

Smooth…..It…..Over

I’m sitting at our neighbor’s house, surrounded by the unfamiliar noises of a house that I do not know.  Around me are many treasures that have been accumulated in the sixty-eight years of marriage that this couple have known.  These items mean nothing to me beyond the fact that some are beautiful, some are unique, and some are mysterious.  But each one is very important to Don and Nora, just as Don and Nora are of supreme importance to each other. 

Don is 87 years old.  He and Nora have been extremely close for all their marriage, I would dare say.  They are never apart, and if you saw them in the aisle of our nearby grocery store they would more than likely be holding hands at some point.  Nora speaks loudly so that Don, who has refused to get hearing aids, can hear her. 
 
Don and Nora

Don has weakened considerably over the past two months.  He was finally hospitalized last week, and to everyone’s great shock he was diagnosed with cancer of the lung, liver, and colon.  He came home this week, on Monday night.  Home to die, as he and Nora wished, instead of remaining in a hospital.  How very sad.

Nora could only bring Don home if she had a plan of care in place.  We, and the neighbors on the other side, said that we would do what we could to help.  There have been a series of events over the past few days and nights.  Don has gotten out of bed during the nights and we have gone over to get him back in bed, and to calm Nora.  She continues to insist that she can handle all of this and she refuses to hire an aid, or to put Don on the Hospice floor of the hospital.  We shake our heads, but we do understand her desires and we sympathize with her pain.  Hospice is also being wonderful, but for all of us there is only so much that Nora will allow us to do.

The second night that Don was home was particularly hard.  Gary and I went over to help, as did the other neighbor.   Nora was at a breaking point.  At times that are this stressful, it’s easy for tempers to flare.  Nerves are raw, and the body and spirit are depleted.  I gently attempted to direct Nora’s thinking toward getting some needed assistance.  She snapped.  She did not want to hear anything that even remotely suggested taking Don out of the home, or hinted at her not being able to care for him – on her own.  The situation was tense, and hurtful.  We stayed until we were able to do what we could, and we left hearing the slamming of the door……….an evidence of the slamming door of Nora’s heart.  It was the sound of her deep grief and her strong spirit.

We walked back home under the beautiful moon and stars, Gary and I.  The air and the snow were cold, just as I felt my heart was becoming.  Anger and hurt will do that to a person, no matter the circumstances.  Gary was so kind, both to Nora and to me.  At Nora’s house he gently touched my back in order to remind me to be quiet.  He ministered to Nora and to Don that night, but to me as well.  He brought my focus back to the point of understanding our position in all of this, and of trying to honor Nora’s wishes, no matter how unreasonable they may seem to us.    

There was someone else who reached into my angry heart that night as well.  My dad.  I was with my parents during the month before my dad died.  I saw the love they had for each other, much like Don and Nora.  I saw the fear and the grief and the decisions that were all a part of this process of death.  And I saw some tense moments between my parents that arise out of the exhaustion and pain of such a looming loss.  There weren’t many of those times and they weren’t extreme, but they did occur.

Mom and Dad
After one such time, I helped get Dad on the couch from his wheelchair.  He and I sat there for a minute, just the two of us.  I put my head on his shoulder as he sat there with his head bowed down from weakness.  We held hands and I spoke words of comfort to him, or at least I hoped they were.  And I told him that I was sorry that sometimes things were stressful. 

My dad slowly lifted his tired head, and he slowly turned to look at me with those wise, kind eyes.  Then he smiled……..his very familiar and very sweet smile.  And he said, ever so softly and slowly, “Smooth…..it…..over.”

His wisdom, in those three little words, was profound.  I have been reminded of that wisdom many times since my dad went on to heaven.  I am so thankful for that moment with him and for the deep lesson I learned once again from my dad, even as he was nearing death.  Those words came to me as Gary and I walked home in the cold snow, still stinging from other words that were not so kind. 

Smooth….it….over.  Be the one to make things right.  Be the one to show kindness.  Be the one to reach beyond harsh words and simply smooth it over.  Is it easy to do?  No.  Is it right to do?  Yes! 

The next day, when Nora called me for help, my attitude was changed.  I had peace and I had empathy for this faithful woman who so loves her dying husband.  Nora hugged me and as I later left her at the end of the day, she said three words as well.  “I love you,” she said as she hugged me close.  And I was able to freely hug her in return and tell her I loved her as well. 

There is freedom in forgiveness.  There is escape from bitterness when I heed the words of my sweet and wise dad.  Smooth….it….over.

Thanks, Dad.  I miss you but I’m still listening to you.
My sweet Dad
 

 

 

 

What Dad Taught Me in Death

 

I’ve heard it said that our parents are the most important teachers that we will ever have.  I would agree with that statement, for as we grow we are constantly watching our parents……..listening and absorbing and learning through their words and deeds.  Hopefully the lessons learned are good ones.  My parents were very beneficial in my life in more ways than I can count.  Yet some of the lessons that I treasure the most are the lessons I learned as I watched my dad live the last month of his life on earth.  What were some of those lessons?
 
1.  Know When to Ask For Help
 
Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2000, and with liver cancer in 2004.   In September of 2008, dad was put into Hospice care.  We knew that no more could be done for him medically, so as he declined I told him and Mom to let me know when they wanted me to come and help them.  I got that call on November 2, and in a few days I was on a plane headed home.  I was fearful of what I would find and how I would handle all the emotion of what was ahead, but I was very thankful that I had the opportunity to go and help my dear parents.
 
2.  Don’t Stop Thinking of Others
 
Dad had always been very kind and sweet to others, and loved reaching out to help people.  This continued even as he deteriorated.  I quickly learned that the real reason he had wanted me to come was that he was  worried about Mom.  He knew that she was physically more frail than she had ever been………..emotionally drained………and that she was showing signs of progressing dementia.  He was more concerned about me helping her than of me assisting him.  In fact, when I first arrived he resisted my help in several ways.  I understood this about him……his independence and his desire to maintain his privacy.   She was his first concern, even though he knew he was losing his fight to live.
 
 Later, when he finally allowed Jan and I to assist with his toileting needs, I found him crying one day as he sat in his wheelchair.  I knelt down and asked him what was wrong.  Through his tears, he told me that he was sorry to have to make us help him in that way.  I was so amazed at him…….at his selflessness and his kindness.  I assumed he was crying from embarrassment, but his tears were not for him…….they were for us.  He told me that he was sorry that he had to make us do this……..sorry for any embarrassment that we might be feeling, but not feeling sorry for himself.  I have never seen such love and concern as I saw in him at that precious moment. 
 
3.  Keep Your Routine
 
For as long as he could, Dad continued to get up early in the morning and to stay up as long as he could.  He needed help but he did not want to lay in bed all day.  He wanted to eat at the kitchen table, sitting there in his wheelchair and eating oh so slowly, often with his head bowed and his eyes closing.  Mom and I would speak to him, and he would perk up, slowly raising his head.  He would manage another few bites and some soft, slow conversation before slowly nodding off again.  Yet he was determined to keep going and to keep his schedule for as long as he could.
 
He also wanted to read the mail and the newspaper every day even though his eyesight was failing.  It was hard to see him struggling to read but he was not to be deterred.  He finally had Mom make an appointment with his eye doctor, even as we knew that this doctor visit would be impossible.  We didn’t tell him that, though…….we wouldn’t take away that hope that he had.
 
We would watch Little House on the Prairie videos at night.  Dad wanted to still be in charge of the remote – just like a man!  He would slowly push the volume button but he had a hard time controlling his movements, so the volume would shoot up sky high.  As he tried to correct it, the volume would go to mute.  He was frustrated but finally relinquished the remote to me and Mom. 
4.  Pay Attention to Details
 
When I first got to their home, Dad was managing to walk with his walker.   He was very, very slow…….walking with me by his side, ready to steady him when he faltered or wobbled.  Dad was always very meticulous about things and this trait continued.  He wanted his sweater on and liked it when the sweater matched his pajamas.  As he would slowly walk from room to room, he would sometimes stop and just stare down at the floor or the carpet.  Then he would ask what that spot was on the carpet, and as I looked down, sure enough I would see a bit of a leaf or a string.  I would laugh as I bent over and picked it up, and Dad would smile as I teased him about being so picky.  Yet those small details were still very important to him.  
 
5.  Mind Your Manners
 
Dad was always polite and proper, never crude or inappropriate.  I guess that’s one reason why the five of us children enjoyed teasing him.  He was great fun but he did have boundaries.  One morning as we ate breakfast, Mom……….well………..she had some gas.  She laughed and said,  “I farted!”   Dad very slowly raised his head, looked at her, and softly said,  “Passed……..gas.”   Mom and I cracked up, and Dad gently smiled – satisfied at his correction and realizing the humor of it.
 
He was always careful to say thank you when any of us helped him in any way.  Close to the end, after I had gone back to Kansas, Jan was rubbing his back and very quietly he said to her, “Do…..not…..do…..that.   Please.”   He didn’t let his situation rob him of his manners.
 
6.  Keep a Sense of Humor
 
Dad loved to laugh and smile.  He was a delight as he loved to tease in a kind way, and also was often the willing recipient of much good-natured ribbing from all of us.  Shortly after my arrival, we had to get him a hospital bed.  He was not happy about this and was especially unhappy about having the bed rail put up at night.  We had to insist, though, and he finally resigned himself to this fact.  One night as I raised the rail, he told me, “Don’t put that rail up.  I’ll remember you in the hereafter!”  And then when I walked in his room to help him out of bed in the mornings, he would greet me by calling me his prison guard or the great emancipator or other funny names having to do with my control over his freedom. 
 
One day he jokingly said, “I’m sorry for every mean thing I’ve ever said about you.  I have to stay on your good side!”  And when we bought him silly pajama pants he went along with the fun.  One day when Jan and I teasingly asked him which of us was his favorite, he immediately looked straight at his hospice nurse, Amy.  Every day there was humor from this wonderful man, even as he was suffering.
 
7.  Show Love
 
Mom and Dad were very close, especially after they both retired.  They were hardly ever apart.  When Dad had to start using the hospital bed, it was the first time in nearly 60 years of marriage that they had slept in separate beds.  We pushed his bed very close to their bed, and at night Mom would lay there with her hand between the rails of Dad’s bed.  They held hands or she would rest her hand on his arm…….still together and still close despite this circumstance. 
 
There were times that I would be holding Dad up as he stood, and there would be a pause.  I would turn to look and find that he had put his frail, skinny arm around Mom’s shoulders and was pulling her close to him.  I felt like an intruder to this moment of intimacy, and the tears would spill down my cheeks as they embraced.
 
In the midst of these days, there were times of stress.  One day Mom and Dad were facing one of those frustrating moments.  I waited in the living room until it was time for me to help him to the couch.  I sat there and laid my head on his shoulder, telling him I was sorry for how hard it was at that moment.  He smiled his sweet smile, very slowly raised his head, and said, “Smooth………it………over.”   I’ll never forget those wise words. 
 
8.  Always Pray
 
Dad continued to pray for as long as he could.  His walk with the Lord all of his life was of primary importance to him, and that never diminished even as he was weak and full of pain.  One of my dearest memories of my time there was of his quiet, halting prayers before meals.  He continued to lead us in prayer for as long as he was able.  He rarely asked anything for himself, but thanked the Lord and then made requests for others.  When my niece, Ruth, had a tumor removed from her spine, Dad was heart broken for her.  He would always pray for Ruth, sometimes with tears.  Always thinking of others………..that was my Dad.
 
9.  Be Ready to Go

 

Dad was afraid to die.  This fact puzzled me at times, although I do understand.  It’s just that Dad had such a close walk with the Lord and I was surprised at his fear.  However, as we talked I realized that he was afraid of leaving Mom…….both for her sake and for his………both of them without the other for the first time ever.  He was looking forward to seeing Jesus, but wondering what he would say to his Savior.  Dad liked having everything thought out and orderly, and this dying process was anything but orderly and known. 
 
Finally one night, John spent some time talking alone with Dad…….assuring him of things about heaven and answering his questions.  This comforted Dad greatly, and later that night Dad shared these things with Mom and me.   Our hospice nurse had told us that often a person needs to be released to die, so that night through our tears we told Dad that it was all right for him to go on to heaven……….that we would be fine and most important, Mom would be well taken care of.
 
 
A few days after that conversation, on Dec. 4, I tucked Dad into his bed at night.  I adjusted his oxygen and did  all the other things I had done so many times over that past month as I got him settled.  But this time was different.  I was leaving early the next morning to fly back to Kansas and to my family.  Dad knew it was time for me to go, but I think he was afraid.  Jan and John would be there, but I had been with him full-time for a month and he had come to depend on that.
 
As I leaned down to tell him good night, the tears fell.  I kissed him, and then he asked me if I would come back after Christmas.  I assured him that I would, even as I knew that it was unlikely he would be there at Christmas.  One of the hardest things I’ve ever done was to kiss him that last time and walk out of his room.  I went home to Kansas the next day, and Dad went home to heaven five days later.  Oh, we miss him! 
 
But I am ever so thankful for that month with him and with Mom, and for so many special memories shared and lessons learned.  What a hope we all have, too, as we know that we’ll all be together in heaven one day.  I didn’t get to see Dad again as I assured him I would, but I do have the assurance that I WILL see him again………..for eternity.
 
And I want to thank him for all that he taught me in life, but especially for what he taught me in death.