Sunday, March 24, 2013

One Year Ago

One year, one week and a couple of days ago I got on a plane and flew across the globe to be with my Dad and Mom as the end approached.

One year, one week, and one day ago, my Dad said, " I don't know why all you people are traveling to visit me."

"Dad, you do know."

"Yes, I do.  And I appreciate it."

"We just want to spend what time we can with you because we love you."

"I love you too"

One year and one week ago I sat with my Dad and my oldest brother and his wife and daughter and watched a DVD of another brother preaching.  My sister in law and I had a conversation on the protestant versus the Catholic view of communiion.  Dad didn't engage in that conversation.  Clearly he was dying.

One year and six days ago I did the dishes while Mom sat next to Dad and held his hand.  They didn't talk.  They didn't need to.

One year and five days ago live continued on in the house while Dad started to slip further away.

One year and four days ago I sat at the computer and tried to complete some work long distance.  Dad asked me about it and we ended up discussing church budgeting priorities.  It was the last real conversation we had.

One year and three days ago Dad couldn't really walk anymore.  He still wanted to join the family at the dinner table.  We put him in the chair and wheeled him to the table.  He seemed totally out of it.  The children were bickering. Mom asked Dad if he wanted to pray.  He did.  He prayed that the family would be able to pull together and support each other.  It was his last clearly lucid speech of any real length.

One year and two days ago Dad spent the day in bed.  Random things came out of his mouth at random times.  He spoke of flying and looking for a luggage cart.  He saw things that weren't there.  He worried about things from his childhood.

One year and one day ago we walked around the house in hushed tones, waiting, knowing it couldn't be long, not wanting it to end but not wanting it to continue either.

One year ago today I stood around the bed with my mother, my brother, and my sister and we all touched Dad as he breathed his last.

One year ago today Dad died.

It was too soon.

One year.

Tomorrow I will write happy memories.  I will write of my Dad and my children because everything I am as a parent is due to the love and training my parents gave me and they gave me so much.

But I am just sad.


  1. I smile with happy tears for a daddy that is the greatest! On this day last year the sun was shining so bright as heaven welcomed him home.

    1. Thanks Michelle, I wish I could be there will you all today.

  2. I knew it was soon. Praying for you and your family. Beautifully captured.