A Tribute to Dad

Dad, I remember no matter what happened over the years you always said, "I love my beautiful bride". At the end of your life you and mom had your final hours together, though it was not at home and that I regret, but you were together.

I worked so hard to get you and mom in the same nursing home where you could Rehab and be cared for, and she could be there with you day and night. Dad, you worked hard that first day to get your land legs back. You lost the strength in your legs during your short stay at the hospital when you were diagnosed with pneumonia. I stopped by Homestead to visit with you. You were so tired! "I worked hard today so I can get back home.", you stated. I didn't say anything and you said, "Mom's worse isn't she, but if I can't go home I want to die."

We knew you were sick but you always rebounded. We were hoping for that same scenario again. This time that miracle was not to happen. Your desire was to live to care for mom--"my beautiful bride" of nearly 68 years. I started working on getting her to Homestead so you two could be together.

Mom spent 2 nights in the clinical decision unit and 3 nights at Wysongs. The last night she was at Wysongs, the nurse at Homestead came into your room and said you had to go to the hospital because you were in critical condition. Mom was to come the next day. You said, "No hospital, and no dialysis." I backed you up, knowing mom was coming. The nurse went to her station to record this information and see if you were going to be allowed to remain at Homestead rather than have an ambulance take you back to the hospital. I went down to the nursing station and asked her what was going on. She told you were in critical condition, but "bottom line" it was your decision to make. You stayed waiting for mom to get there.

Wes and Randi were there to receive mom at Homestead. Chick and I had driven Holly to a facility where she would live for one year to get her own life back. Holly was such a help with mom and dad while she was here. I hated to see my daughter leave us at that time, but knew she needed this "breath of a new life" for herself. It would be a selfish act on my part to keep her here though she offered to stay. Kathy had to work that day.

Dad,even though you were so sick when mom arrived at Homestead, you raised up on your elbow saying, "There is my beautiful bride." Randi captured the kiss on her camera- -yours and mom's last picture together in life. This was March 1, 2011

Dad never did get better, on March 6, 2011 he left his family. By accident we were all there, never dreaming it was to be his last day. He seemed to be in such deep pain and unable to stay awake and visit with any of us. The past two days he had mostly slept, would not eat, would not drink, and grimaced with pain and groaned. Mom sat by his bed all day rubbing his arm. March 6, 2011 she went outside of the home, the staff called it an elopement. It may have been too much for her to handle to watch dad so sick. Kathy and I arrived by 3:30 p.m.

Kathy forgot to give Colton his key to the apartment; she texted him to come by Homestead to get it. I texted Laura to come since I couldn't get hold of Wes;and texted Melissa to let her know dad was in really bad shape. Laura arrived; Wes and Harry arrived, Melissa and Francesca arrived. We were there when dad's soul lifted from his earthly body and floated around us and then on to heaven. Mom had told him the day before just as clear as she ever talked, "I hate to see you go!", but she knew he was in pain and indicated (in her way) he could be released from his worldly responsibilities.

Good-bye dad, we love you forever!