One Day I got a call from K House. The lady said, “Your dad is ok, but we notice something is declining. He isn’t eating and he is less responsive. His vitals are all good. Just FYI.”
That night I had a dream. I believe it was a warning about something to come. Dad was lying in a bed and the bed had a vase of red roses on it. When he stood up he had no shirt on. He was a younger, more vibrant version of himself. He looked at me and spoke boldly. “Sandra, I can’t take this any more. Do you hear me? I can’t take this any more. I just can’t take it.” He said that 3 MORE times. Then he went back into bed. I woke up.
I told my best friend, Jean, about the dream that morning. She said, “I think I would go see him really soon if I were you. It sounds like a message from God. ” She is a wise woman and a wonderful friend. I had never had a dream like this before, so I did.
The next day I went. Mom was coming, but I got there earlier than she did because I had some important business to do. Dad looked awful. He was lying all twisted up with his mouth opened wide. He was very thin, thinner than I ever saw him. He used to weigh up to 220 pounds, now he was 158. He was completely out. I could not wake him. He did not respond, nor did he acknowledge me. He did not know I was there.
I began to talk to this skinny, unrecognizable man who was my father. I told him I was sorry for anything I might have done to hurt him. I also told him I forgave him for everything. I then said, “I release you to God.” For years I prayed for my Dad to have a relationship with the Lord. I do not know if he ever got to that point. It was time to let him go. I have heard that we can keep people here on earth when it’s time for them to go, so I let him go. I sat there quietly and a few tears leaked out. I did not know what else to do.
Shortly thereafter, my mom arrived. The nursing home administrator came in to talk with us. She said they would keep a close eye on him. She then asked us about hospice care. It was Tuesday, and we made the appointment for Thursday morning. The care would be that at K House, he would not have to be moved.
Hospice, as defined in www.dictionary.com:
A health-care facility for the terminally ill that emphasizes pain control and emotional support for the patient and family, typically refraining from taking extraordinary measures to prolong life.
The following evening I was falling asleep and I heard the phone ring. It was after 10 p.m. They said Dad had taken a turn for the worse, and asked if I and my mother wanted to come in. I called Mom and we decided we would be there in the morning, why go now? We figured that 8 hours would not make that much difference. At 12:30 a.m. K House called and said, “Your father is gone. He died peacefully in his sleep.” He was 85. It was 10/ 6/ 2011, about 7 weeks before he would be 86.
I thank God I visited him that day.
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