After declining for several years and becoming bedridden for the past year, my Dad passed away peacefully Monday afternoon at 82. I almost made it to 56 without losing a single close relative that I love dearly. My Dad and I were close. I feel like a ship with a broken rudder. I'm completely lost right now.
The story of his last moments is worth sharing. I have no doubt that he has seen the face of God.
He had been suddenly unresponsive beginning last Friday morning. He remained in the same position through the weekend. On Sunday night, he became somewhat awake. I fed him crushed ice to get some hydration in him and he seemed to really appreciate that. He could barely open his eyes. A nurse came and she joked with him some as he listened. He managed a weak smile at some of the things she said.
On Monday morning, he was very weak. I talked to him some, and I could tell he heard everything I was saying. Around 3:20 PM, my brother left to go to a store. I was alone with my father, and seeing him as he was really got to me. I lowered the rail on the bed so I could hug him. As I hugged him, his arm started moving. This was his only movement in days. I stood up and held his hand. I prayed directly to God as if he was standing in front of me to please receive my fathers soul into heaven. I also thanked God for giving me such a wonderful Father. As I closed my prayer with "in Jesus' name I pray," my father took his last breath. He died holding my hand just as I completed the prayer. I believe the hug and the prayer with me, his firstborn son, named after him, is what he was waiting for. I know he loved me deeply too. His actions as a father never failed to prove it.
God immediately answered my prayer. I'm trying hard to get past the pain. I suppose only time will help me heal to the degree that I will. I will miss him tremendously for as long as I live. God is great.
The story of his last moments is worth sharing. I have no doubt that he has seen the face of God.
He had been suddenly unresponsive beginning last Friday morning. He remained in the same position through the weekend. On Sunday night, he became somewhat awake. I fed him crushed ice to get some hydration in him and he seemed to really appreciate that. He could barely open his eyes. A nurse came and she joked with him some as he listened. He managed a weak smile at some of the things she said.
On Monday morning, he was very weak. I talked to him some, and I could tell he heard everything I was saying. Around 3:20 PM, my brother left to go to a store. I was alone with my father, and seeing him as he was really got to me. I lowered the rail on the bed so I could hug him. As I hugged him, his arm started moving. This was his only movement in days. I stood up and held his hand. I prayed directly to God as if he was standing in front of me to please receive my fathers soul into heaven. I also thanked God for giving me such a wonderful Father. As I closed my prayer with "in Jesus' name I pray," my father took his last breath. He died holding my hand just as I completed the prayer. I believe the hug and the prayer with me, his firstborn son, named after him, is what he was waiting for. I know he loved me deeply too. His actions as a father never failed to prove it.
God immediately answered my prayer. I'm trying hard to get past the pain. I suppose only time will help me heal to the degree that I will. I will miss him tremendously for as long as I live. God is great.