September...

 In September when I went to Minnesota to visit my Dad, I thought I was just going to spend some

lovely days with him before he got too bad with his lung disease.

I thought we would spend some quality moments together,

and be able to reminisce about the past and talk about how he

would endure his last days.

I wanted to be a source of encouragement and love.

I wanted to do those fun things "one more time" - going out to

breakfast, playing Farkle,

laughing at all of his jokes,  just showering him

with love and joy and lots of good food and desserts.

Some of that did happen - but the good moments were mostly lost

in between moments of pain, struggling to breathe,

frustration at his limitations and needing so much help.

He told Hannah he felt like a prisoner in his home -

he could only go as far as his oxygen line would let him.

But despite all of these obviously difficult and extremely frustrating

circumstances, I still NEVER heard him complain.

He put on a chipper face, still cracked jokes,

and was very intent on knowing more about God

before his last breath.

We had a lot of talks about life, eternity, heaven, hardships,

pain, and the certainty that he would meet Jesus.

He told me one night (and tears are forming as I write this) that

he hoped he would live long enough to really get out

there and find out more about faith and God - to have

more knowledge about God's purposes and great plan of salvation

for all.  He beamed with joy knowing that FOR SURE he

would walk the streets of heaven.

Aside from some deep regrets he had about his life

(mostly about his parenting and the Catholic church)

  his faith was beautiful.  It was sure.

It was strong and steady.  In the end...

He Was Ready.

On the morning of his 82nd birthday, I made him some french toast with

whipped cream and some bacon and sausage.

You would think that I had just given him the moon and stars.

He loved his food.

Here he is reading and enjoying a book that Matt had given him

for his birthday.

Seeing these pictures of him with the new clothes we gave him for his

birthday will always make me cry. 

He had lost a lot of weight and he was always cold, so we gave

him some sweatshirts to wear around the house,

as well as a hat.

He couldn't tie his shoes anymore so we bought him

some slip on tennis shoes. 

He loved it all.

But he looked a little nervous.

He said "Oh boy - I hope what happened to my Dad doesn't happen to me."

When we asked what he meant,

he said that his father had gotten a check from the government when

they found out his birth certificate was wrong, and he was actually

older than he thought - so they owed him more social security money.

Well he took that money and bought some new clothes.

Not much time later, he died.

Dad was nervous that now that he had new clothes he would die soon.

We laughed and assured him that wasn't going to be the case here!

I even offered to just take them all back.

Somehow that whole conversation will always haunt me.

He died 16 days later.

Taking Dad out to doctors appointments was a challenge as we had to

take oxygen tanks along, and hope they would last long

enough to get there and back.

I had to learn how to fill and adjust the tanks, 

and I was always nervous because during the time it took me to switch

tanks, he couldn't breathe.

So I practiced a lot.

We did go out one day and just splurge on a bunch of fall

decorations - fall was Dad's favorite season, and from his rocking chair 

on the porch he could see this view.

He was so grateful.

This is one of my absolutely favorite pictures.  It is sad, and happy.

Bittersweet, and beautiful.

This is the ONLY fun thing we went out and did the whole time I was there.

We got in the car and went to an apple orchard

to get apples, apple pie, apple donuts,

apple cider, all dad's favorite treats.

I wheeled him over to the edge of a lake underneath the branches of a tree,

and we just watched in silence as the birds flitted around,

as the leaves crunched under the wheels of the wheelchair,

and we just existed for a moment.

Under that tree.  

Enjoying the company.

Somehow knowing...something.

Knowing we didn't have many days left to just sip cider under a tree.