Posted by Kathi on July 2, 2009
The last couple of weeks – and really, the last couple of months – seem surreal. No one realized that Dad would go downhill and pass away so quickly. The last week, Mom and I have been go-go-go from sunup to sundown… there’s no time to grieve with all this paperwork needing to be done while I’m still down there.
I’m incredibly grateful that Mom has an excellent support system in her neighborhood and also through ongoing services from Hospice. Although Charlie (my brother) and I will have to go down a lot more often to help out and make sure she’s all right, I know that if she needs immediate help there are good friends right there with her.
So – now I’m home. Or, well, almost. I’m at Starbucks, waiting for Ken to get off work. Should be early today as tomorrow’s a holiday (Thank You Lord!) – today’s his birthday, so we’re going out to eat 
THEN home.
But once I’m home… gaaaaah! I need to hit the virtual power button and reboot.
- reboot the house (clean it from top to bottom, as I’m sure there is dog fur everywhere)
- reboot the fish tanks and probably dismantle a couple of them for deep cleaning
- reboot the Bible study routine
- reboot dance practice and exercise
- reboot eating right! No more Bojangles!
- reboot the Melaleuca business, which has languished due to my attention being on my folks
- reboot the blogs
And maybe find a job, at least for the short term. We’ll see.
Posted by Kathi on June 27, 2009
I don’t think Dad ever failed at anything he set his mind on doing. (He was stubborn that way, and wouldn’t mind me saying so.)
I don’t know a whole lot about Dad’s growing-up years other than he grew up in Manchester, CT, an Irish Protestant with Irish Catholic friends at a time that this was very unacceptable. He had a way of befriending just about everyone he met. After high school, he was apparently offered a scholarship to a prestigious accounting university, but chose to go in the Coast Guard instead.
He was stationed for a season in Adak, Alaska (quite literally the end of the earth!) and we think he served a total of six or seven years in both active and reserve Coast Guard.
After that, he met and married Mom. We got to look at their wedding album – there’s a picture of the two of them in the front seat of their boat car and he had the biggest grin ever!! They apparently lived in Claremont, NH briefly and built their house in Alstead, which is where I grew up. Dad was a retail sales success. He started off as a clerk in the liquor store in Keene, NH and he quite literally worked his way up. When he retired he was a regional supervisor and well-respected state wide.
Dad loved to fish and hunt. Some of my best memories growing up were trout and mackerel fishing! He also loved to tell jokes. He’d make fun of everyone – even himself – to get people laughing. Dad also loved sports – the Red Sox especially! And the Celtics. And the Hurricanes (formerly the Hartford Whalers). And golf. Etc. If it was a sport, he loved it.
He and Mom only had two kids – me and Charlie, who’s 11 years younger than me. And they’ve got four grandkids – Brandi, Bobby, Kayti, and Olivia (who’s almost 1, and as cute as cute can be!)
Dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease in the mid-1980’s. He remained vital even as the disease robbed him of his bodily functions, right up until the last two weeks of his life. Mom and Dad’s friends told me that even a few weeks ago, two of the men came and helped him out of the house and up to the community club house for a birthday party, and Dad was laughing and joking just like always.
He slipped away slowly over a two week period, with longer and longer periods of unconsciousness. He was in a lot of pain at first, but after he asked Jesus to help him, he seemed to be at peace. He also seemed to have an agenda – in his mind, he got his business in order and made his goodbyes to the family. I knew that last night, when Kayti and Charlie both talked to him, that he’d go home the next morning… and he did, very peacefully.
This has been hard on Mom, Charlie, and I, and on the grandkids – but knowing that Dad is not only now at peace, but is able to dance and do somersaults and speak clearly and fish (surely there’s fishing in Heaven?) is a blessing, too.
We want to thank everyone who’s prayed for us over the last few weeks, as well as the Lower Cape Fear Hospice center – most especially a volunteer named Carole Burnett, who was at our house within ten minutes when he passed and who helped us navigate the myriad of “things that must be done”. We don’t know what we’d have done without her!
So – Dad – we miss you and love you, and will one day soon join you in dancing with the Lord!
Posted by Kathi on June 22, 2009
Dad’s still with us, but his breathing has changed and his pulse is very thready. Mom wants to keep him at home, if she can, and I support her in doing that – or in whatever she needs to do.
I’m very grateful right now for three things:
- the prayer support of our family, friends, and extended church families
- the fact that my circumstances – and Dad’s – do not change in any way who God is.
- that God is right here in the midst of this. The sense of His presence is overpowering and comforting.
Posted by Kathi on June 18, 2009
I tweeted yesterday – Dad’s real sick and Hospice has told Mom they think it’s the end. I just now talked to her on the phone and his breathing is really, really shallow.
So, Bobby and I are headed there in a couple minutes.
Prayers appreciated for travelling mercy (especially with the awful weather we’ve been having) and for Dad’s salvation, and for strength and unity in the family.
