It’s hard to believe that it has been one year since my Papa
stepped into eternity. Tonight, in memory of him, we will have steak ~ n ~ eggs
with sourdough toast. This was another
one of his favorite meals, and the last birthday dinner he chose. Words cannot adequately express how much my
heart aches with missing him. This
morning, when I first woke at 4:38, my heart was heavy knowing what day it is. Before I drifted off to sleep again,
I thanked the Lord that He nudged me to wake up a little after 5 AM one
year ago today with a strong desire to go check on Papa as he slept. How
thankful I am to have had those last couple minutes with my hand in his as he
took his last breath at 5:15 AM.
Over this last year, I have wrestled with myself often as I relive
our last days with Papa. I wonder if there were signs I missed in recognizing
his final decline. As a family, we were by his
side by his side almost every waking hour of the last years of his life,
especially in those last 7 months he spent bedbound. We lived our lives in his little part of our
home, with him… how could I have missed knowing the end was so close? We were blessed in our last days with Gigi. She followed a pattern of decline and so it
was very obvious to see that her time was close and we were able to be gathered
around her bedside when she took her last breath. In my heart I guess I assumed it would be the
same with Papa. I often rethink the day before and nothing seemed out of the
ordinary. We had soccer in the morning
so some were gone and some were home, and Ramona came in to help with
Papa. He was his normal self, kind and sweet,
with “I love you’s” freely given. We
spent the afternoon and evening in with Papa, watching a Boise State football
game, sitting with him, visiting between his sleeping, and holding his hand. I
cut the boys hair in there and per usual we ate our dinner in with him. We had Penne con vodka and fresh bread, a
meal he deeply enjoyed. He had a bite of
pasta, a bite of bread and even a little sip of red wine. We did our family devotions with him and then
tucked him into bed. The only “difference”
you could say is that by the time we were done getting him ready for sleep, he
was already asleep. This wasn’t terribly
unusual as he slept so much at that point but it was different in the sense
that he was always awake to say his goodnight’s, I love you’s and give us all
kisses. How I have agonized over those last
hours. Our time with him was sweet and just as it had been every day for a very
long time. Did I miss something? Should I have been alarmed that he wasn’t
awake to say his usual goodnights? Was
there something more in the day that I didn’t see? He was declining of course,
eating less and sleeping more but this day seemed to hold nothing different
than the days, weeks and even months before.
I have struggled to leave this with my Savior. I have wrestled with guilt and sadness throughout this last year about how things might have been different had I known or
recognized more in those last hours. I
have been reminded many times by Chad to rest in the situation and realize…..how
can we ever know? He has reminded me that
we have no regrets in our years with them.
At the time of Papa’s death we had spent 12 of our 18 years married with
Papa and Gigi, and a myriad of precious memories were made with them.
Another
truth that has been brought to mind lately is that while I would have taken more comfort in being with Papa longer in the
hours leading up to his death, it is not I
who would bring him comfort, but his
Savior. I never wanted Papa to be "alone" in death. I have come to see though, that even if I had been with him through his
last night in this earthly realm, in reality, that part doesn’t even compare to
the comfort he received from Christ as he crossed between the earthly and heavenly realm. I
could not “walk the vale” with Papa, so to speak, but he was not alone. Psalm 23 gives the reassurance that “Even
though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no
evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff,
they comfort me”. I am very aware of these truths in my head, but I struggle
with getting my heart to follow. I have been and I still often ask the Lord to
take this struggle from me and I need to trust him to do just that. How weak I
am in my faith, how much more I have to learn and grow. How thankful I am that I have a Heavenly
Father who loves me in spite of myself. How
grateful I am that He is a sovereign God and that he knew and orchestrated the
final moments of Papa’s life to be used for His glory and for the continual deepening
of my trust in Him.
I wanted to share with you a portion of the devotional entry
for today, October 2 from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening Devotions. I read it
again today and I remember reading it the morning Papa died and I am thankful
for this sweet reminder from the Lord.
“The hope which is laid up for you in heaven” – Col. 1:5
“Our hope in Christ for the future is the mainspring and the
mainstay of our joy here. It will animate
our hearts to think often of heaven, for all that we can desire is promised
there. Here we are weary and toilworn,
but yonder is the land of rest where the sweat of labour shall no more bedew
the workers brow, and fatigue shall be forever banished. To those who are weary and spent, the word ‘rest’
is full of Heaven.”
