No matter how much we think we want to change it, God's will always shows us the best way. It has been two weeks and three days since my dad's spirit left this earth. Looking back, I can tell you that there were signs that he was ready to go all along our journey to his death.
When he entered the ICU on August 4th, my dad never saw the date on the dry erase board. It was supposed to have been changed every day with the new date and the name of the nurse for the day. It was August 4th and the date on the board was July 22, 2010, which was his 62nd birthday.
After he was transferred to the multiple myeloma floor, he became increasingly uncomfortable. I got really upset and began the process of getting him transferred to hospice as soon as possible. I remember my mom and the pastor of their church saying that my dad locked eyes with my mom and held up his arm and gave the "I love you" sign in sign language. Also noteworthy was that anytime the three of us went to talk to him, tears came out of both sides of his eyes. I'd like to think that was a meaningful gesture instead of a physical response.
The morning he slipped away, my aunt had stayed the night with him, refusing to allow us to stay at the hospital that night because we were so exhausted. The phone rang at our house at 5:48am. I got the phone, but didn't answer because I didn't recognize the name. I went back to bed and the phone rang again two minutes later and it was my uncle's phone. He told me that dad had passed away. I immediately called the number back and got the nurse who was on call that night. My aunt had used the nurse's phone to call us because hers had died. She told us that she called the nurse to have him suctioned and repositioned and as she was closing the door behind the nurse as she was leaving, she heard him take a light breath and he was gone. She said she looked out the window and there was a beautiful pink sunrise in front of her.
We were mourning on our way to the hospital and it had not rained in days. As soon as we left the house, it began to pour angrily. As we neared Little Rock, the rain began to subside and we too, saw the sunrise. I think it is quite fitting that God chose to take him three short hours before his transfer to hospice, which he would have hated.
I have always believed in signs and I am sure that I missed many that I was too upset to see. But the point is that God knew what he wanted for my dad and I am at peace with the events that took place. My dad's death has brought much pain, but has also been a catalyst for new and better relationships with his side of our family, which my dad would have loved. It has also been the blessing and answer for our concern for our mother, who is actually happily beginning a new chapter in her life.
My sisters and I are just sad. We miss him terribly. I am sorry for people who will never know him because he was so good. He was just such a unique person. He was good and kind and had too many lives to count. I don't think I have grieved for him yet. I am consumed with handling matters of his death, my mom, my family, my job. That doesn't leave a lot of time for the grieving process.
I will grieve in my own time and we will all learn something from the last nine years of pain and disappointment. He is happy and with God. He is watching us and laughing at the mess he left at home that the three of us have to sort through and clean up. Somehow, I knew it would happen that way. And I'm ok with it.
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