I spent Monday, January 11, 2010 at my dad's bedside. Having just reached 90 on the 7th, he was at the end of his life. Breathing was coming in very shallow attempts, swallowing was near impossible. Oh dear Lord, I prayed, Please have Mercy, have Mercy. I could not bear to sit through this much longer. This roller coaster ride of good days and bad days had gone on for 2 weeks now. I struggled to continue saying, God is Good. Mom and I began singing hymns, one after the other until our voices were hoarse (not that they were that good to begin with). With each one, my faith was reconfirmed. Dad was able to look at us with one open eye. I know we were communicating if only in just that simple way. We stroked his hair, held his hand, quoted whatever Bible verses came to our mind. I finally left at 5pm, so exhausted from several nights of little sleep. I went to bed at 9 and received the phone call at 2:20a.m. Nurse Joanne said the words I was relieved to hear, "I'm sorry to tell you your dad passed away about 5 minutes ago." I had so wanted to be with him in his final moments. Maybe he needed to just slip away without mom and I hovering over him. I hope we were able to ease those hours for him; it was a blessing to me to be able to have those hours. As hard as it was, I know I will treasure them.
