I started this saga by saying there was some humor in my father's death. After what I've written, it's hard to believe there was anything remotely funny about this debacle. Oh, but there was...
Help did, indeed, arrive for our family, and it arrived in the form of Hospice Workers from Christian Care Center. We first used Christian Care Hospice for my mother and when Daddy needed hospice care, we knew we wanted those same caring professionals to help him through this final phase of his life.
When we moved Daddy to Garnet Hill, Christian Care Hospice made special arrangements to be allowed to care for my father. They checked in with Daddy daily and, when the time came to have someone there around the clock, they settled right in.
While we were upset with the lack of care my dad was receiving from Garnet Hill, the hospice workers were shocked and appalled. They marshalled the troops, surveyed the situation and made immediate improvements.
They went over the nurses' heads and contacted staff doctors themselves. Medicines were changed and new procedures were started. Oh yes, there was definitely a new sheriff in town, and this one took no prisoners.
One special hospice nurse was a sweet woman named Lucy. Lucy is an elderly woman with strong religious beliefs, a passion for her work and a true dedication to her patients. I'm not real sure what Lucy thought about our family, but we'll be forever grateful for the way she came in, took control and made sure my father's passing was as easy as it possibly could be, for him and for us.
Lucy had the day shift with my father for a couple of days, and on the day of his death, my sister, Michel, my niece, Suzanne, Roger and I were all there in the room, visiting. Even though we had complete faith in hospice, it was hard for my family to let go of the feeling we had to be there all of the time. I guess you could say our experience with Garnet Hill left us with some trust issues.
Daddy's body was slowly, gradually losing this final battle and Lucy let us know he was close to passing. We gathered around my father's bed, holding his hands and telling him we loved him and that it was okay to move on, that we'd all be fine.
Daddy stopped breathing for a time and then took one huge breath. Lucy told us that was very common and it would probably happen a few more times before he actually died. It was all part of the process, but very normal and predictable.
Daddy's breathing started and stopped several times. As the times between episodes became longer and longer, Lucy would reach forward, feel for a pulse and listen to his heart.
Each time she assured us this was a normal part of the process and it wouldn't be long before Daddy passed peacefully.
My father took a breath and we all leaned in closer to the bed waiting to see if he'd take another....waiting......waiting......waiting. Silence, nothing but silence.
Then BOOIINGG! Roger's cell phone went off, all of us jumped and Lucy grabbed her chest and declared in a loud voice, "Okay, I don't know WHAT that was!"
That's okay, Lucy, we know what it was...it was my Dad, making sure he left us laughing with one last practical joke.
I think it's fitting that I end this four part story on this day...what would have been my father's 89th birthday.
I love you, Daddy.
