I have to say, my brushes with death over the past 42 1/2 years have been fairly second-hand. My Nana Moore died when I was 8. My sister and I came to the viewing and to the funeral, but were uninvolved with the family gatherings and what not. My mom's folks took good care of us during most of it. I knew Nana had been sick for a long time and that her passing was indeed a blessing.
Almost 6 years later, my Bompa Moore died the day after he turned 75. I was 14 and going through an awkward time. The viewing really affected me, but the funeral wasn't too bad. Once again, my mom's folks took time with me and my sister. Also, my Aunt Terry and cousin Erica were there, so I was well occupied. I got a little more involved 2 weeks later when my dad and I took a truck out to Michigan to get a lot of Bompa's trains, basement bar, etc.
A year and a half after that, my Grandpa Fitz died fairly quickly of cancer. My mom and I went to see him in the hospital. It was then that I realized I have a hard time seeing others in pain. His death and funeral were 2 months later. This time it didn't affect me too badly since I knew he was out of pain.
A little over 14 years later, my Grandma Jo's 2nd husband passed. As I didn't really have an emotional connection to him, it really did not affect me and I was just there for the service and emotional support.
Grandma Jo herself passed 8 years later. It was a tough time for me professionally and I was in therapy at the time. However, her death was not a surprise, we were just sad that she died before turning 90. We were grateful that she got to know little Natalie before she went to meet Jesus.
And now we come to present time. I am no longer the observer, I am full emotional support and assistant in decision-making for my father-in-law. There are times when I want to step in and spare Vickie the pain, but I know that this is not my job. All I can do is listen to her and offer my opinion when asked for. I can comfort her, take her where she needs to go, and just stand by. There are times when this does not seem like much. However, I have come to learn that just being there and doing what I've been doing is what she needs.
We spent a week in the Salt Lake City area, starting with a late night drive up there for Vegas after a full day of work. Coffee helped a lot, but the last 20 miles were killer on my senses. I could have had a caffeine IV and it wouldn't have helped much north of Provo. Luckily we made it to the Midvale Super 8 in one piece. For the next few days we alternately watched TV and hung out on the ICU floor at the hospital in Murray, meaning Vickie was with her dad and Natalie and I hung out in the waiting room. This was tough because Natalie wanted to see her grandpa and was also getting bored. She was delighted when other kids were there to play with her...and crushed when they left, a very tough time for a 5 year old.
On Monday, our fourth day there, I was ready to head back home, albeit uneasily. I had planned to be out from work only through Tuesday, but the situation was not changed, and I knew Vickie would just want to come back up soon. However, on that day she made probably the hardest decision of her life: her father would go off of medication to die peacefully. I understood this decision completely. He had become unresponsive to her and his afib had gone in and out...he was done fighting. He was taken to the palliative ward on another floor. As we had checked out of the hotel, the hospital room was our only place to stay and Vickie did not want to leave him.
The next day, a physical therapist came to see Alan. It seemed a little strange but apparantly it was a leftover follow-up from the ICU stage. The guy had her father sitting up and uttering a few small words and looking at us! It was brief, but very good to hear him speak one last time. Also a hospice adviser spoke to us and we arranged to get Alan into an actual hospice for the remainder of his time. It was a short run. He went into hospice at about 2:00p.m. and died at 6:15p.m. We were originally going to stay there at least one night but after the funeral home took Alan away, we were politely asked to vacate the room. It was probably for the best, but it also meant we had to find a place for the night.
On Thursday we met with the funeral director to make arrangements. This was a definite first for me, but the process was made simple for such a tragic event and was not creepy like many would expect. Actually the man was very pleasant and open about everything, including himself when asked why he chose his profession. After that (the visit, not his life story), we headed home.
It is not over by a long shot. There is still the funeral in the Midwest and settling Alan's estate, such as it is. I will continue as always to be there for my wife and child. Has this taken a toll on me? Well, everything takes a toll on everyone in some way or another, be it a harsh lesson, exhaustion, stress, or simple life experience. I think this is a combination of everything for me and I come out a better person for it in the long run.
And for you faithful (or lost) readers, thank for for reading my 50th entry!
