ChasWolf
Now its Mom. Just when I started to feel things had settled down a bit - I was past most of the very difficult arrangements having to do with Dad's passing - Mom started to get real weak.

I don't know how much she understands about losing Dad. She is senile, and doesn't really talk much. She was never one to express emotions other than angers, and as she has moved deeper into senility, the anger has thankfully gone away.

But that leaves her with just about no emotions to show other than a radiant, beaming smile which still lights up the room when we are able to coax it out of her.

So she started having trouble getting up and down. Then she started having trouble walking on her walker.

Finally, Hope and I couldn't lift her out of bed one morning, so we called for transport and took her to the Emergency room.

She is quite sick, it turns out. Slight fever, bad UTI (infection most likely in the bladder), dehydrated, and a possible stroke.

They can't tell for sure about the stroke, because she had one long ago and I guess they can't tell if there is new damage or old.

They did rule out bleeding in the brain, thankfully.

So she gets to spend Thanksgiving in the hospital. She doesn't really understand all the questions they keep asking her - I keep telling the nurses she is senile, but they don't seem to get it. They come in, rattle off an update, ask her what her pain level is today, and she smiles and nods. They leave, thinking they have accomplished something...

Fun.

Well - she'll be around awhile at least - nothing in her condition is life-threatening. Her heart was goint nuts, and that was a real concern, but as the infection clears and her body gets hydrated that seems to have settled down.

I love my Mom, and I'm trying to 'be there' for her. But I have to admit, it is hard to sit by her side for hours when she is just as likely to forget that I'm there. In fact, I had Hope and Kristen go see her yesterday because I had to drive to San Diego. When I got to see her later in the day I asked if she had any visitors. She thought a moment and said, "no, none."

Oh well. We will do what we can.

ChasWolf
Well - one of my kids made it for a visit before Grandpa left us. Neither of my kids were especially close to my Dad - he lived far away all of their lives before moving in with us about a year ago.

My daughter came to the hospital to say her goodbyes, but Papa was really under pain meds and not able to talk. It was a total blessing for me though, because we had the chance to talk for hours. I love both of my kids, and always enjoy spending time with them, but this was very special.

And I had been by my dad's side for the past few days watching and waiting, with very little contact with other humans. Even the nursing staff didn't come in very often because Dad was on simple 'comfort care' and there simply was nothing to do unless I noted something needed attention.

So we talked. And talked. And it was most pleasant. Fun, sad, we ran the gamut of emotions and topics. It reminded me that our most valuable possessions are not things - our most valuable possessions are the people in our lives. Dad had a handle on that: as the past few years went by he had to get rid of things as they downsized their house, then eventually moved in with us. And just before he passed on - this would be last Wednesday - he had one concern: my Mom.

Once I assured him that I would take care of Mom, and that he really had nothing left to concern himself with, he relaxed and let go. Friday morning he breathed his last breath here, and looked into the eyes of Jesus.

I just wanted to update that point - I'm not the least concerned about who was there or not there. Remember this man for what he was and did, and who was important to him. He taught me to give. No, he was not free with his money. In fact just the opposite. But he was free with whatever else he had: time, hard work, talents, love, care, concern, and things like that. He worked hard for the church he attended, building things, from cabinets to room additions. He played in the worship band until just before he moved down here. He played piano many years before that. He helped us build and rebuild our house - in fact every house we have owned has had a large infusion of his hard work.

Every car I ever owned up till I move to Southern California had his touch on it somehow - at the very least he would help me tow them home when they broke down, let me store it in his garage, let me work on it there, provide tools and know-how, or in some way be a part of keeping me moving.

He loved boats - his boat still sits in my warehouse. We will try to take it out skiing this Friday, weather and schedule permitting. One of the very last days we spent together - and my fondest memory at the moment - is of the two of us putting the boat in the water at Lake Casitas and just driving around for a couple of hours. The whole thing - from hitching the boat up to launching it, to driving it around the marina and then the lake, to pulling it out and cleaning it up, to putting it back in the warehouse were all fun as we recalled doing similar things throughout our lives together.

More when I can - but thanks for stopping by. My Dad was truly a blessing to me and many others, and I am proud to have known him.

ChasWolf
At 7:45 PST this morning, my father was greeted warmly by Jesus. His last words were spoken a day or two ago, when he simply said, "Precious Jesus," as he lay with his arms outstretched in praise.

After that the pain meds kept him asleep until the end.

It is important the we know this: Just before that he looked me squarely in the eye and said he was ready to go 'home.' He didn't mean come back to the house.

My wife Hope and my niece Stacey and I were there as he took leave of this world with a relaxed, peaceful look on his face.

He was a heart failure patient for the last ten-plus years, so we count those years as a wonderful gift from God as we got to enjoy his warm and loving presence for that 'extra' time.

ChasWolf
Well, I had to make a very tough decision yesterday. I had to tell the doctors to stop care for my dad. He has an advanced medical directive, and he wants to go home to see Jesus.

He is laying in a hospital bed - we hope to bring him home in a few days if he lasts that long - having an all-day worship service of his own. He is asking God to welcome him home by the minute. When his eyes focus on my, he asks me to pray that the Lord would take him 'home.'

Wow. Tough stuff. And writing about it is hard, but I feel the need to do so - to help process it. To help put it in perspective. To help me feel it. I'm not so worried about the feeling part - that will happen - but I want to be sure I have grasped the significance of it with the various parts of my mind.

My kids haven't gone to see Papa. That saddens me, because I know they will regret that later in life if he goes before they get to talk with him and tell him the things that might haunt them if left unsaid. My wife hasn't gone either, but she is terribly busy. Too busy.

My sisters - the two remaining alive - are not coming. One was adopted out at birth and only found me about five years ago. I can't get ahold of her to let her know - I will try to call my niece again today to see if she can make the call for me, but I don't know if my sister will come. She has a young baby, is a single mom.

My other sister just doesn't have the cash to travle from Oregon right now. I will offer to buy her a ticket, but I have this nagging feeling that if it was truly about money she would find some way to get here. So I don't know if Papa will be surrounded by those who love him when he leaves this earth, but I do know he will be surrounded by those who are glad to see him as he enters the next.

ChasWolf

This is based on an actual radio conversation between a U.S. Navy
aircraft carrier (U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln) and Canadian authorities
off the coast of Newfoundland in October, 1995. (The radio
conversation was released by the Chief of Naval Operations on
10/10/95 authorized by the Freedom of Information Act.)

Canadians: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the South to
avoid collision.

Americans: Recommend you divert your course 15 degrees to the
North to avoid a collision.

Canadians: Negative. You will have to divert your course 15
degrees to the South to avoid a collision.

Americans: This is the Captain of a US Navy ship. I say again,
divert YOUR course.

Canadians: No, I say again, you divert YOUR course.

Americans: THIS IS THE AIRCRAFT CARRIER USS LINCOLN, THE SECOND
LARGEST SHIP IN THE UNITED STATES' ATLANTIC FLEET. WE ARE
ACCOMPANIED BY THREE DESTROYERS, THREE CRUISERS AND NUMEROUS
SUPPORT VESSELS. I DEMAND THAT YOU CHANGE YOUR COURSE 15 DEGREES
NORTH--I SAY AGAIN, THAT'S ONE FIVE DEGREES NORTH--OR
COUNTER-MEASURES WILL BE UNDERTAKEN TO ENSURE THE SAFETY OF THIS SHIP.

Canadians: This is a lighthouse. Your call.