The time was 6:33 pm PST on Monday August 29, 2011. My father took his last breath. I kept waiting for the next inhale, and it never came. I really can't believe how fast everything went. It is still a blurr the next morning, but I want to get it down before I loose any details.
Late afternoon yesterday he seemed to be struggling with breathing. I climbed on the bed to hold his hand and realized his nailbeds and fingers were turning blue. I new we only had hours left so I had to make some decisions.
I called his sister, Cynthia, who lives in Michigan and told her I thought we didn't have much time left and would she like to talk to him. I told her he had not been lucid since my arrival, but I could put her on the speaker phone and hold it to his ear and she could say whatever she wished to him. I don't know why I didn't think of this before, I never got to say goodbye to my brother and for years I wish I had.
I then called both my children and asked them to talk to grandpa for the last time. I know he could hear everything even though there was no response. I remember him telling me the hardest part of this for him would be not seeing his grandchildren mature into adults.
I'm not sure of the exact order of things but Eanna read a prayer while I blessed him with oil and water from the Jordan river. Eanna had been singing the Beatles "Blackbird singing in the dead of night" all day to him. It was the most beautiful thing, her voice was perfect and the lyrics dead on.
We had opened a bottle of Champagne to toast Stephen and stood around the bed and raised our glasses to him. The whole family was in the room with him. I was holding him on one side and Eanna was singing the Blackbird song. His breathing was so shallow, it was so hard to tell if the next one was going to come or not. He took his last breath of life at 6:33pm. It was the most beautiful, peaceful, loving transition I ever could have hoped for.
Hopefully Peter is now showing his father the way. They have a lot of catching up to do. They ran a marathon together once when Peter was in Jr. High. I can see them doing that now. Runnig in the heavens, together.
I love you Daddy
I love you Peter
Sue - I am so sorry. The loss of a beloved father is so hard. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
ReplyDeleteIt was such an honor to be present - in an inexplicable way you father liberated me. I was the black bird trapped in an egg I had long ago out grown. I started my first music class at Columbia College tonight. I went even though I was exhausted. It was the first time I left the "hurricane" since he past and it was for a piano class. After hearing mom play as Stephen passed, I thought is was the perfect class to start my return to school and hopefully my transition to a better life.
ReplyDeleteThis was a beautiful entry Susan. Thank you for sharing this very personal and difficult experience. I love you and am thinking of you.
ReplyDeleteTeresa