Four years ago today Daddy was called home to Heaven. It was a Thursday: The Thursday after Easter. We'd been to the farm and celebrated Easter with my family on Saturday. On Easter morning, we left to have brunch with Eric's family. Before leaving, I went through the normal routine with my dad. He was having his breakfast and I slipped my arm around him for a hug. As he slowly said "Good-bye", I said, "See you next time." I always said "See you next time" because "Good-bye" seemed to permanent to me. Daddy had already surpassed the doctor's prediction of "3 to 6 months left to live", so we knew our time with him was limited. Each time we saw him, he was more frail. He hadn't walked since Christmas (with the exception of one day walking from his bedroom to the living room, which no one witnessed.) He needed help with all his basic needs. Each time I helped to dress him he looked thinner than before. We knew it was only a matter of time.
Although he was unable to speak much any more, he always knew his kids and grand kids. But on Good Friday morning, as I sat in a chair just outside the bedroom, he looked at me and said, "Who are you?" I simply said, "I'm your youngest daughter, Kim. You know me. I'm Danielle, Lauren and Evan's mom." He seemed satisfied with that answer. As I helped get him dressed that morning, he looked at me and said, "Where are you?" Remembering his earlier question, I asked, "Where am I or who am I?" He repeated, "Where are you?" I replied, "I'm right here with you." He responded, "I like you!" I said, "I like you too." Months later as I read books about the experiences of the dying, I wondered about those things he asked me that morning. I read that often when people are nearing death, they will be "between Heaven and Earth". They may see relatives who have gone before them yet still see their earthly surroundings as well. I wondered if possibly he was really asking me if I was on Earth or in Heaven when he asked me where I was.
On Tuesday (two days before he died), Daddy was able to wheel the office chair he sat in, across the kitchen floor to the window. He then, some how, pulled himself to standing and looked out at the farm, toward the barn, one last time.
That Wednesday, my sister, Jo, called to let me know that Mother had called and asked her to come out to the farm. Daddy wasn't able to get out of bed that day. Perhaps I should have known and driven down. But he'd been close to Heaven's door a few times and always came back to us. My sister, Kathy, flew to Reno that day for a bowling tournament.
On Thursday afternoon, the phone rang. I answered, "Hello?" No one was there. This happened another couple of times and I was getting tired of it. I assumed it was a telemarketer. So the next time the phone rang, I answered with a smart aleck "Good-bye." Only this time, it was my sister, Jo. It had been her the other times too, on her cell phone which didn't get good reception at the farm. She quickly told me that she'd taken my mom to a scheduled doctor appointment and on the way home, she'd gotten a call from my sister-in-law, Leah who'd stayed with my dad. Leah could tell my dad had taken a turn for the worse. Jo wasn't sure if this "was it" or not. When I got off the phone with her, the kids walked in the door from school. They started telling me something they needed and I snapped at them that Grandpa was dying. I immediately felt guilty for breaking it to them like that. Evan ran out the door. I later found out that he ran to his friend Jake's, two houses away. He walked right into their house without knocking and went to Jake's room for support. I called Eric at work and told him he needed to come home. Between phone calls to my brother, Charlie, to update him and trying to get ahold of Kathy in Reno, time was slipping away. We must have finally left home about 5 pm.
We rushed toward the farm, stopping in Cannon Falls at the McDonald's for a bathroom break and to get a bite of food for the kids. I called my sister Jo from there and Daddy was still hanging on. I asked her to tell him we loved him and were on our way. I told her we'd be there around 8 pm. (Just this past week, we were driving to Rochester and stopped at that McDonald's. While we'd driven past it several times in the last 4 years, we hadn't stopped there again. As we pulled into the parking lot, all those memories came flooding back.)
I sat in the back of the van with Lauren and Evan reading a book borrowed from a family friend. It was called, "Someday Heaven". The book was helpful in explaining to children about death, funerals and Heaven. When we were about 10 minutes from the farm, I thought of calling Jo, but decided against it as we were almost there. As we pulled into the driveway at the farm, I saw my siblings gathered on the steps outside. I knew immediately. I knew Daddy had died. He had died about 10 minutes earlier. I was told Mother was in the living room next to the hospital bed where he lay. I went to her and gave her a big hug and the tears flowed out of both of us. I kissed Daddy on the forehead. He was gone.
While I felt bad that we hadn't made it "in time", I had a peaceful feeling that it was the way it was supposed to be. In hindsight, I know that it would have been very traumatic on my kids to see him struggling at the end. As we looked at my dad lying there, I noticed something. He'd long had a wrinkled crease in his forehead. In death, that crease of stress of gone. His spirit was free. I found comfort in that. I knew his earthly suffering was gone and he was in Heaven where there is no pain or sorrow...only joy.
My niece, Kelly, took a picture of the sunset that night. It was within minutes of my dad's death. She showed us the picture the next day and it is beautiful. There were some clouds and yet the setting sun was brilliant. It really seemed appropriate. Daddy was leaving the clouds of this life behind and going home to God's brilliant light.
It is hard for me to believe it's been four years already. Yet it seems like forever since I last saw Daddy. I've changed in those four years. I don't just mean the gray hairs, wrinkles and extra pounds that have found me. Something inside has changed. I like to think it's for the better. I am learning to let go of things that I can't change. I've learned the only person I can change is myself. And I am learning to accept who I am, something I struggled with for a long time. Mostly, I think I've grown in my faith. I've seen many amazing things in these last four years...things that point directly to God. Daddy always said, "God works in mysterious ways." I know he would be happy that I have witnessed some of those amazing ways and that they strengthened my faith.
The four years that have passed are but the blink of an eye in Heaven's eternity. I know that I will see both of my parents again, when I am called Home. Until then, I silently tell them those final words I said to Daddy on Easter morning of 2009: "See you next time!"
