Headaches

I have never understood headaches.  Why do some people get them often and some people seldom if ever experience an aching head? My dad was one who got them very frequently. I have many memories of him lying on the sofa trying to sleep off a headache. On the other hand, my mother never got them. I remember her saying that she didn't even know what one would feel like. Imagine that!

Unfortunately, when it comes to headaches, I take after my father. I have dealt with headaches for as long as I can remember and have tried numerous home-remedies and over-the-counter drugs (and a few prescription ones) to conquer the pain.  My favorite was by far Excedrin which I used constantly for years. However, about five years ago, I developed a stomach ulcer and was informed that Excedrin was the culprit, so it was put on my don't use shelf.

Fortunately, my headaches have gotten less since I passed through that wonderful phase of life called menopause. Most of my days are pain-free and if I do get a minor one I am able to stave it off with Advil. However, there is always in the back of my mind, the awareness that at any moment and without warning I can be hit with a massive migraine as happened to me Sunday morning.

I spent an active day on Saturday, catching up around the house and yard and then went to Kid's Club in the evening. I felt wonderful!  I went to bed around 10:30 with not even a smidgeon of a headache. Around 6:00 am I awoke to a head that was literally pounding and a stomach that was sick. I recognized it as a full-blown migraine. Over the years, I have learned to push through a lot of headaches and just keep going. Since I was scheduled to teach Sunday School, I decided I would try to persevere. However, when at 7:30, Steve found me with my head in the toilet gagging mightily, he informed me that I was staying home and the Sunday School class would be just fine without me.  I did not put up much of an argument and went back to bed with a wet washcloth on my head.  I'm not sure that this really helps except psychologically but when you feel that bad I figure it is fine to psych yourself up. After a few more times of upchucking and dozing fitfully, the pain began to lessen and although it never went away completely the entire day, by mid afternoon I was up and around and even went to a viewing in the evening.

I'm not sure why I think my woes with headaches are worthy of a blog posting. Maybe it is so if some of my descendants read this and they themselves are bothered with headaches, they will know that it is probably hereditary. Maybe it is because I just need to share in writing how frustrating this affliction is to me. I have found that people who don't suffer from head pain, can be very unsympathetic to those of us who do.  I have learned to keep my mouth shut and just endure the pain when around those who don't understand. The thing that bugs me the most is that I can't figure out anything that triggers them. Without warning, my head is suddenly exploding. My biggest fear is that I will be hit with a debilitating one on an important occasion that I can't just miss---like one of my children's weddings or while I am traveling away from home.

The Bible tells us that Paul also had an affliction that he begged God to take from him.  People suggest that it might have been his eyesight, but just maybe it was headaches. In 2 Corinthians 2:7, Paul suggests that his thorn-in-the-flesh was given to him to keep him humble. I don't know if that is why I am prone to headaches but I do know that I need to trust God. I cannot live in fear and even when I face headaches or other trials I have to trust that God has everything under control. How fitting that my verse for today is Psalm 56:4--"In God, whose word I praise— in God I trust and am not afraid...." 

You Never Know

For the past 13 months four community children have been regularly attending our church. We had been praying for the Lord to open doors for us to reach out to the local community and He dropped these four children on our laps. We have been so grateful for this opportunity, but many times we feel we are just beating our heads against a wall as we try to interact with these kids and show them the love of Jesus.

So that we could spend time with them more then just on a Sunday morning, we started a kids club that meets the second and fourth Saturday evening of every month. For two hours we play games with them, make crafts, have a snack and share a short spiritual story. We have painted pumpkins, baked Christmas cookies, made soft pretzels and pizzas, designed and raced Pinewood Derby cars, pulled taffy, and done many other fun activities with them. We invited them and their parents to a Thanksgiving meal (sadly, the parents did not come), and included them in our Christmas program (again, the parents did not come). We took them on short excursions and the young adult girls at church had a movie and pizza night with the girls. We registered (and helped pay for) them to go to a Christian Summer Camp. In addition, a small group meets every Sunday morning at 8:00 am to pray specifically for them and their families.

Suffice it to say, many of us have put a lot of time and energy into planning and organizing activities and interactions with the children but often we are discouraged because although the kids love the fun and games, we wonder if we are really doing a good job of communicating and sharing the love of Jesus with them and their families. Although the parents are friendly when we talk to them over the phone or at their house, they refuse to attend any programs that we invite them too. They use the excuse of no gas, anxiety disorders, or physical limitations among others. We get the feeling that they like the fact that their children go to church, but they themselves are not interested in forging any new relationships with us.

Speaking for myself, I have had a difficult time loving these children. Many times they are obnoxious, disrespectful, loud, and plain down rude. More than once, I have just wanted to walk away from them and never come back. However, God is slowly changing my heart. Let me tell you about "Jenny."

When I first met Jenny over a year ago she was thirteen years old and angry. Whenever we introduced an activity, Bible story or game, she promptly declared it "stupid" and left us know that she had no intention of participating or listening.  She brought her MP player and stuck her earphones in her ears and turned the music loud so that it blasted her eardrums and disrupted everyone else. When during a Bible story the Sunday School teacher talked about love and forgiveness, she informed him that "she hates everyone" and that she "loves to fight." She bragged about the people she had "punched," and walked around with a "don't mess with me" look on her face.

Gradually we learned that Jenny had some learning disabilities and could barely read at a second grade level. We began to understand that she had to appear tough with an I-don't-care attitude to hide her limitations. We searched harder for something that would connect with her and the others. It was obvious that they liked music because they were always listening to it so my sister-in-law, Rhoda, began meeting with them for 15 minutes each Sunday morning to sing with them and teach them songs. To our amazement, Jenny especially loved it.  We discovered that she could sing and sing beautifully! She would sit on the bench during our Praise and Worship Time and act like she was bored out of her mind and listen to her own music or talk loudly to those around her.  However, if we would start singing a song that she knew, the earphones would come out and she would join in and sing with all her might and so did the other children! We even persuaded them to sing up front on occasions and although Jenny always declared she wasn't going to do it, when the time came she marched up and participated along with the others.

As the year passed, sometimes Jenny would let down her guard. Once during a song that she didn't know, she began to sob uncontrollably. We asked her what was wrong and she said that the song made her feel sad. Slowly, we began to see another side of her. Even though she still was often rude, she began to show more interest in the Bible stories and activities and seemed to enjoy interacting with us a little more. It was encouraging to see these small improvements and to get glimpses of a different Jenny.

We found out that she sang in her middle school choir. I asked her when her Spring Concert was.  She gave me the date and I told her that some of us might try to come.  She looked at me skeptically and I could see that she didn't believe me. 

Rhoda, Megan, Emily Ebaugh and I attended Jenny's concert. We found seats and waited for the choir to come in. They came in a side door and walked across the front of the auditorium to sit down while the orchestra played. We saw Jenny come in. She looked around and spotted her parents and sister and smiled at them. As she walked over to our side of the auditorium, the four of us began to wave wildly to get her attention. It was hard not to notice us and she soon looked our way.  I will never forget the look of astonishment and pure joy that came across her face when she saw us. Her smile was huge and she became so excited! She literally jumped up and down and waved at us and then she gestured to where her family was sitting to try to get them to notice that we were there. She pointed us out to those on either side of her. In the whole year that I had known her, I had never seen her so animated or exuberant. After the program was over she came rushing back  and hugged us all. We took pictures of her and told her she was beautiful and that she had done a fabulous job and she just beamed from ear to ear. All of us were so glad that we had made the effort to come. Her reaction to our presence was priceless and I believe it was because we made her feel special which is not something she is accustomed to feeling.

Attending her concert hasn't solved all our problems with Jenny, but it was definitely a turning point. Her attitude toward us is better and my attitude toward her is better. Seeing how much our attendance at her concert meant to her, gives me the incentive to continue on and to look for other ways that I can show her I am interested in her. One never knows how a small act of kindness will impact someone. Maybe someday, because of the seed we planted and the love we showed her, Jenny will be open to accepting the love that Jesus has for her. That is my hope and prayer.

Dear Lydia

Dear sweet Lydia! You are two years old today! It has been so much fun to watch you develop and grow. I remember the day you were born. I met your parents and Alexis in the Women's and Babies parking lot to take Alexis home with me. Your daddy struggled to get Alexis' car seat transferred and buckled in properly and I could see that your mommy was anxious to get inside the hospital. Alexis and I were barely home when your daddy called to say that you had arrived! I guess you were in a hurry to make your entrance!

As I remember, you were a contented baby and everyone enjoyed your sunny disposition.  In looks, you reminded me so much of your daddy. You definitely resemble his baby pictures a lot! One thing I remember is that you liked to go to anyone who was standing up. If whoever was holding you was sitting down and someone else came and reached for you, you would immediately put your arms up in the air to go to them. Also, from very early on, you loved Chip. All we had to do to keep you entertained was take you to the window and show you Chip. You would get so excited and pound the window and I think one of the first words I heard you say was "ip."

After you learned to crawl, you were a little busy body. Anything you could reach came toppling down. Cupboards and drawers were emptied. As you got older and more mobile, chairs were the greatest stepstools. You would push them to wherever you wanted and then use them to achieve the heights you desired, usually either the table or counter.

You often have one finger popped into your mouth while a finger on your other hand twirls a small strand of hair on your head. You do this to fall asleep and any other time you are sitting somewhat still.  If I read a book to you, you twirl your hair and suck your finger while you listen. When you want to watch a "veedeeo", you run to the sofa, climb up, plop yourself down, get the fingers twirling and sucking and wait patiently for the movie to start.

Here are just a few things that I love about you:

• The way your face lights up when you see me and a big smile comes to your face.
• The way you run to me with your arms outstretched wanting me to pick you up.
• The way you love to listen to books.
• The way you talk.
• The way you nod your head up and down and say "es" for yes.
• The way your hair is always messed up, usually with one ponytail in and the other one out :)
• The way you do the motions to songs, especially "The Wheels on the Bus."

There are many other things I could mention that are cute and funny about you, but lets just suffice to say that you are adorable. Your bright smile, big brown eyes, and bouncy steps light up a room. I love you Lydia Eileen Lehman and am blessed to be your grandma.

Dear Jay

Today you are 28 years old. Happy birthday!  I thought I would take some time to reminisce.

You were born around 5:30 am after a sleepless night (for me) at Lancaster General Hospital.  At 9 1/2 pounds you were the biggest baby in the nursery!  In  my eyes, you were also the handsomest with your beautiful dark hair and big brown eyes. Dad and I were so proud of our second son and we called friends and family right away even though we knew we were probably waking them up!

We named you Jay Marlin after both grandfathers and brought you home and settled you in our little family which included Dad and me, and your older brother Shawn.  You were a good baby but you had your demands.   You thought it necessary to be picked up immediately after waking from a nap and would never consider waiting patiently until I had time to get to your crib.  I remember that you also liked to hold my finger when you drank your bottle. When you got a little older, we would put you to bed with a bottle (I know parents aren't supposed to do that). We always knew when the bottle was empty because we would hear a thud which was you tossing the bottle against the wall. When you were even older, I would fill a bottle with milk and put it in the refrigerator before I went to bed.  In the morning, you would hop out of bed, go out to the kitchen, open the refrigerator and get your bottle, come back to my room, crawl into bed with me and drink it!

You walked early and talked late.  When you did begin to talk, we had a lot of trouble understanding what you were saying.  We would say "what?" and you would repeat it louder and louder, but often we would just nod our heads and say "oh."  You were smart enough to know that we didn't really understand and this frustrated you.  You loved to play with your little farm toys and I remember you would line up all the tractors, combines, disks, rakes, corn planters and other machinery against the wall.  Then you would point and say "see my bimpbimp." I couldn't figure out what you were saying so I would just nod and say "yes."  You kept repeating "bimpbimp."  One day I said, "are you saying equipment?"  Your face just lit up and you were so happy that I finally understood what you had been trying to say.

You had energy plus and rarely stood or sat still.  At mealtime you would contentedly shovel in your food all the while humming to yourself.  You were always looking for new adventure and were convinced that you could do about anything. It always seemed like you were in a hurry to grow up and that you wanted to do things that you weren't quite capable of doing :)

You endured school but I certainly wouldn't say that you liked it.  All that sitting and concentrating was hard for you!  However, you rarely complained and you just accepted it as something you had to do. You  made good friends and people genuinely liked to be around you. You were a little bolder then your siblings.  I remember after your first day at LMH I asked you how it went and you said, "good," and proceeded to tell me about several people you had met and a little about them.  I said, "how did you learn all that so quickly?"  You responded, "Well, when I sat beside someone, I just asked them their name and went on from there!"   You are much quicker to initiate conversation with strangers than the rest of your family is.

You accepted Christ as your Savior as a young teenager and it has been a privilege to watch you grow in your Christian walk as you matured into a fine young man. You participated in youth group, led Bible Studies, joined mission trips, and were active in the church, even preaching sermons occasionally!  Your faith and commitment to Christ has been strong as you continue to share your passion for Jesus with others, including your family.

It was a happy day when you married Kristen.  She has been a wonderful addition to our family. Together Dad and I have rejoiced with both of you in the birth of your precious children, Alexis, Lydia and Mark. You have allowed us to enter into this wonderful phase of life called grandparenting. Thank you. We love it!

I can't close without mentioning your special relationship with both of your grandfathers. I think it was meant to be that you carry their names because you have shown your love for both of them many times over. You have truly taken the time to get to know them and care about them. I know they appreciate(d) it and it was a true honor to you that my dad specifically requested that you share at his funeral.

I am so blessed to call you my son,

Love,

Mom

A Trip Down Memory Lane

From time to time I am going to post memories of things that I remember from my childhood. Here are a couple of memories from my school days.

I went to New Danville Mennonite School for grades 1 through 8. It was a three-room red brick building with grades 1, 2 & 3 together in a basement room, grades 4 & 5 were up the front stairs and to the right, and grades 6, 7 and 8 were in the room on the left. We brought packed lunches every day in neat little lunch boxes. My favorite one was a little yellow school bus which I think was what I had for my first couple of years. We lined them up on a shelf above the coat rack where they stayed until lunchtime when we brought them to our desks and consumed whatever goodies our moms had put in for us.

I loved school and was pretty good at reading and writing.  However math was a little more difficult for me.  I remember one time in 3rd grade I didn't understand a math assignment which we third graders were supposed to be doing while the teacher was working with the first graders.  I started to cry and eventually the teacher saw me and asked what the problem was. When I told her I didn't understand it, she got someone to help me. Later, I was happily doing the assignment and the boy in front of me was struggling with it and I stupidly made the remark that "this math is easy."  He turned around and said to me, "At least I didn't cry!"

Another time when I was in second grade, I was standing on the swing at recess and swinging as high as I could. In back of me, far away, the big kids were playing softball on the ball field.  Someone launched a long ball and it hit me squarely on the back.  I had the wind knocked out of me and my hands came off the chains in midair and I collapsed slowly to the ground. My teacher had been standing near the swings and saw the ball coming and was able to cushion my fall a little. I remember lying on the ground and everyone was looking down at me.  People were excitedly saying, "Mary Ann was hit with a ball!" My teacher carried me inside and it was soon determined that I was fine. I remember feeling a sense of importance at being the center of everyone's attention for a little while :)

I was pretty good at sports and so always enjoyed track and field days. Two events stick out in my mind from those days.

1) There was a boy two grades ahead of me who wore a leg brace for quite a few years. On one track and field day, I remember a relay race that involved him.  The teachers had very wisely put all the slow runners on one team and on the other team they put all the fast runners with this boy. He started the relay and limped, jumped, and hobbled as fast as he could but by the time he got to the finish line the other team was way ahead.  However, the fast runners on his team did their part and in the end they managed to beat the other team.  I remember the pure elation on this boy's face when his team won.

2) The long jump was one of my favorite events and I usually did well.  Since we wore dresses to school, the challenge was trying to jump and land and not let the boys get a glimpse of your underwear. On track and field days, I was allowed to wear culottes so I was free to jump as long and hard as I could without worry of my dress flying over my head. Another girl in my class who was also really good at long jump was more conservative and did not wear culottes so I always had the upper hand on her and through the years usually came in first in this event. Then one year, in either 7th or 8th grade, her parents allowed her to wear a culottes slip underneath her dress. Being released from the worry of her underpants being the sideshow, she flew through the air and jumped like never before. She won easily and I came in second. At the time I was disappointed and a little jealous of her.  Looking back now, I am so glad that she won. It was an incredibly happy moment for her and one that she absolutely deserved.

That's it for this trip down memory lane. I'll post more as the memories surface in my mind.

Mother-in-Law

"Mother-in-law."  This one word strikes terror and dread in so many women.  I have often wondered if it truly is as bad for most women as TV, other media and bloggers like to make it seem or if it just makes a good show or story.  Thankfully for me, my experience is completely the opposite of what these public forums portray.

This Sunday is Mother's Day.  I no longer have a mother living but I still have a mother-in-law.  I will write memories about my own mother some other time, but for this piece I thought I would share a few things that I appreciate and love about my mother-in-law.

• Her energy.  When I first met my mother-in-law she had jet-black hair and more energy than the energizer bunny. Soon after Steve and I got married, we were putting an addition onto our mobile home. Steve's parents came to help us. I thought this meant that Steve and Dad would do the building part and Mom and I would putter around with this and that and maybe hand nails to the men and do a little painting. Oh no.  Mom arrived in an old  dress and came prepared with her own hammer, putty knife, paintbrush, etc and was ready to work.  She hammered, spackled, dry walled and painted! I was amazed, in awe, and exhausted just trying to keep up. Over the years I learned that when Mom came I should be prepared with something for her to do.  She was happiest when she could weed my garden or flowerbeds, mulch, sew, bake or cook, paint or do any other odd job that I had for her. It got to the point where I would save stuff for her to do because I knew that she enjoyed it so much. It was wonderful for me too, because it was usually things that I just hadn't gotten around to doing.

• Her generosity. Mom is one of the most generous persons I know.  It was rare for her to come for a visit that she didn't bring something along to give to me and/or the family.  Often it was produce from her garden (which she loves) but sometimes it was clothes, food, or whatever else she had picked up at a garage sale or bargain shop that she thought we would appreciate. She was also generous with her time. For many years she babysat for me once a week while I worked part-time as a secretary in a lawyer's office in the city. We would meet at the Lancaster Shopping Center early in the morning and I would transfer the children to her and then in the evening we would meet again, for me to take the children home. Of course, she never charged anything for babysitting and I was grateful that my kids could be with grandparents and not at a daycare while I worked.

• Her nonjudgmental attitude. One of the things I most appreciate about Mom is that I never felt that she judged me or anyone else harshly. I don't remember her ever criticizing me and I always felt accepted and loved by her. Although Steve and I were not as conservative as she and Dad and other members of the family she never once made me feel uncomfortable about it. When the children were small, she would pick up clothes at garage sales for them. When Megan was born I was impressed that she selected little girl outfits for her that weren't dresses but ones she thought I would wear on Megan. This showed me that she respected the way Steve and I chose to live our lives and raise our children even though it wasn't the way she probably would have chosen. I also remember her reaching out to a woman who had left her husband for another man by inviting her to lunch and asking a mother about her grandchild that her unmarried daughter had given birth to.  The mother was so appreciative of her asking because she said most people chose to ignore that she had a grandchild and never asked about him.

Now, Mom's hair is completely white. She walks slowly and tires easily.  She has had some health issues and can no longer do some of the things that she once did so easily.  Aging can be a very cruel process but it is something everyone who lives to an old age goes through. It is the way people handle it that stands out to me. Mom has accepted it with grace. I know it is hard for her and she is willing to go to doctors and try to find out if there is something that can be done to improve her balance and energy but at the same time I see a quiet acceptance of her situation. She is aware of what she can and cannot do and continues to look for ways that she can help others. I know she makes meals for people who are going through difficulties or had a new baby and she even babysits occasionally for her great-grandchildren (now that requires some energy!). She still tends her beloved garden and shares the bounty of it with family and friends. In many ways, I actually see her and Dad enjoying this season of their lives and I pray that they will continue to be able to live independently for many more years.

I am blessed to be able to call this special woman my mother-in-law.

In Memory

Today marks the one year anniversary of my dad's death. Between his death and his funeral, I wrote down what I remembered of Dad's last days and shared it with my husband, children, siblings and a few close friends.  I am reposting it today on my blog. It is certainly true that memories fade as time passes, but it is good to revisit them occasionally. Some days I wish I would hear his lawn mower start up and see Chip eagerly rush up to greet him and some evenings I still wish I could walk into his house, sit on that old chair, watch Jeopardy, and chat with him.

Dad’s Final Days

                We all knew that Dad’s health had been declining steadily over the past year and it seemed like since his last fainting episode in January the pace had picked up and each week it seemed he was slowing down a little more.  He had stopped volunteering at Willow Valley (I can’t remember when—was it last fall?) and the beginning of April he gave up bowling. He was beginning to get out of breath very quickly if he walked even a short distance. However, none of us expected the end to come so quickly.

                On Sunday, April 22, Steve and I took Dad to George’s restaurant for lunch.  Josh also joined us.  Afterward Steve and I had to run an errand and Josh took Dad home.  Dad got out of Josh’s car but as he took a step backward he fell. Josh helped him up but he was unable to walk so Josh carried him in to his sofa.  I checked on him several times that afternoon and he seemed okay, just shaken and thankfully nothing was broken.  The next morning, however when I went up to check on him he was still in bed and complained of dizziness when he tried to get up.  Eventually, I was able to help him get up and dressed and the dizziness went away. He never mentioned dizziness again. After that episode, Dad began to use a cane to help with his balance. He would often tell me that he was just worn out. On Wednesday, April 25, Les accompanied him to Landis Homes to attend his high school class reunion. He seemed really glad that he went but that evening he was absolutely exhausted.

                Gene left for Bulgaria on Thursday, April 26 and I was away with some ladies from church April 27-29. When I got home Sunday evening, Dad said to me, “I’m so glad you are here. You don’t know how bad I am.” Les & Lois had both spent time with him over the weekend and though he was weak there was nothing that sent off alarm bells that he was near the end. He even drove his car to Les’s and then drove with Les to get groceries on Saturday morning.

                On Monday evening over Jeopardy he told me that he had been unable to eat that day.  It looked like he had taken one bite out of a sub that was on the kitchen counter (he told me to give it to Chip) and a TV dinner was on the table uneaten. I always refill his pill containers on Monday evening and I realized that he hadn’t taken his medications Saturday, Sunday and Monday.  I asked him about it and at first he said he thought it might make him feel better not to take so many pills but then later he said he didn’t know why he hadn’t taken his pills.

                On Tuesday morning I went up to his house around 8:00 and it was still dark.  I found him in bed and he said he was too weak to get up. His breathing was very labored and heavy. He said he hadn’t been able to sleep hardly at all and he didn’t want to be alone. I began to realize that this was getting very serious.  I called my siblings for reinforcement. We did not want to make any major decisions with Gene out of the country so Les suggested that we as a family do round the clock care until Gene returned on May 7.  Lois stayed with him on Tuesday during the morning and made him meatloaf and mashed potatoes but he was able to eat only a couple bites.  Les stayed with him in the afternoon and brought chicken noodle soup but again Dad could barely eat. Our pastor also stopped in to visit during the day.  I contacted Gene and told him that Dad was not doing very well and Gene was able to call him late afternoon from Bulgaria.  Dad was really glad to hear his voice and it seemed to pick him up for a little bit.  Glen also called and Dad was able to talk with him as well. (Let me say here that my siblings have been fantastic.  Everyone has supported Dad as best they could and those that were far away always checked in with him regularly and I know that Dad was very appreciative of that.) We asked Dad if he would go to the doctor but he said no.

                I spent time with him Tuesday evening and he just kept repeating that he was so tired. We watched Jeopardy together (I didn’t realize that this would be the last time) and then I helped him undress and get into bed. He was so out of breath and when I finally got him into bed he just sighed and said “Thank you Jesus.”  Les came and spent the night. He said he heard Dad talking a lot during the night but it was basically uneventful.  In the morning he helped Dad get dressed and brought him out to the living room.

                After I arrived on Wednesday morning Les went home and Lois soon arrived. The plan was for her to stay the day while I went to work.  However, we began to realize that Dad was deteriorating very rapidly.  He was still unable to eat anything and his breathing continued to be labored and he was barely able to walk at all. We asked him again if he would go to the doctor and this time he agreed. We were able to get an appointment right away so Lois and I took him. He was able to walk with a walker into the doctor’s office but he was so weak and out of breath that we used a wheelchair to take him into the doctor and back out to the car again. Dr. Mohler was very kind and took a long time with us. He checked Dad’s lungs and he said they seemed clear and there was no swelling of his legs that indicated any kind of congestive heart failure.  His nose was a little stuffy and Dr. Mohler said it was possible that he may have an infection that is causing the drastic change in his health but that it was really impossible to know.  He did prescribe an antibiotic which Dad seemed agreeable to taking and then he also said that we could call Hospice and see about getting help through them.

                Lois and I brought him home and Lois stayed with him and I went into work for a little bit. He was able to take the antibiotic but he did not want to take any of his other meds and Lois could get no food into him.  He did continue to drink a little.  Lois made some calls to nursing homes and we were able to get an appointment with Landis Homes on Monday, May 7 and I called Hospice and scheduled them to come out for an assessment the next day, Thursday the 3rd at 12:00 noon. Dad knew we were doing this and he was very agreeable with it. Even though he has always said he wanted to die at home, he knew he could no longer stay there and was willing to go wherever he needed to. This was very reassuring for me to hear.

                Lois needed to leave for an appointment so I returned home to stay with him around 1:30 on Wednesday.  I tried to get Dad to eat a little and take some of his meds. He actually took his pills and ate a little applesauce but a couple minutes later he threw up.  He said he just wanted to sleep so I helped him over to the sofa and he went into a fitful sleep.  Gene called from Bulgaria and Glen called and when I told Dad and asked him if he wanted to speak with them, he said “I’m just too tired. Tell them I can’t right now.”  This was major alarm bells because I knew if he didn’t want to talk to either of them he was definitely not well.  (Glen later told me that when someone is close to death they sometimes push away those that are close to them. I don’t know if this is what Dad was doing or not but it helped me to know that.) I was feeling a little overwhelmed and Steve offered to come up and sit with Dad while I went out and mowed yard. This was just what I needed. Steve sat with him for probably 2 hours and Dad just slept on the sofa. He talked a little but wasn’t really restless. When I returned we moved him over to his recliner.

                Jay & Kristen brought supper down for us around 5:00 and they really wanted to visit with Dad. I left Dad for about 15 minutes and came down to my house and ate supper and then went back up to Dad. I asked him if it was alright if Jay and his family came for a little visit. He said he would rather they did not come because he was just too tired. However, I did tell Jay that he could come by himself. Jay came and this is the last “normal” conversation that Dad had with anyone. Jay talked about eggs, corn and weather and Dad actually perked up and seemed a little interested and asked Jay some intelligent questions.  Jay did not stay long but I believe that Dad really did appreciate his visit.

                About 6:30 Dad said he wanted to go to bed. I said “what about Jeopardy?” He said he didn’t think he could wait that long to go to bed, so I helped him get ready and get into bed. He was so exhausted and when he finally was lying in bed he let out such a big sigh of relief. I told him that either Steve or I would be there all night with him and he thanked me.

                About 10 minutes after he was in bed I heard him talking. I went back into his room and it was just amazing.  I could make out very little of what he was saying.  It was too jumbled together. I don’t know how to describe it except that it was like he was carrying conversations with different people.  You could tell by his tone inflections that sometimes he was asking a question and the next time he was answering it. Sometimes it seemed like he was giving instructions. I’m sure he was praying as well, because I caught the word “Jesus” several times. One time I made out the phrase “I am willing.” We also caught the phrase “open the door” and “I just want to get out.” He became very agitated and would fling his arms around and his legs were moving constantly. He would throw the covers off and then try to put them back on. This went on for hours. Steve came to sit with me and him as well and neither of us knew what to do.  At one point I said to Steve, “we are not capable of taking care of him tonight,” but there really wasn’t anyone in healthcare that we could call because we knew Dad did not want to go to the hospital and since Hospice wasn’t involved yet we couldn’t call them.  Several of my siblings asked me if they should come, but I honestly didn’t know.  I had no idea that he was going to die.  I thought he was just going to spend the entire night like this and I didn’t think it was necessary for them to miss their sleep as well.

                I sat on the bed with him for a long time. I held his hands and it seemed to calm him somewhat. When I would first touch him he would open his eyes and see me and several times he called me by my name, but then immediately he would start talking incoherently again.  Whenever I would gently shake him he would startle and I would ask him how he was doing. He would answer “good”. I asked him if he had any pain and he said “no.” He seemed to realize when I was praying for him and after I recited the 23^rd Psalm to him he said, “that is good spiritual food.”  We played music for him as well and at first it seemed like he liked it but then he said it was too loud. At one point he asked if Gene was here. I told him not yet but that he would be coming. Once when Steve stepped through the bedroom door Dad looked at him and said, “oh good, Gene is here.” (Gene I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell you but several people advised me that I should. I’m sure that in his unconscious state he was still aware that you were far away.)  From 7:00 to 11:00 this continued and there was really very little that we understood.  What I wrote above is the only words we could understand.

                At 11:00 I was exhausted and Steve suggested that I go home and get a couple hours of sleep while he stayed there with Dad. It seemed like a good idea since at this point we assumed this was going to continue all night and I figured I would need sleep to face the day tomorrow.  I agreed to go home and sleep a little and then I would come back in a couple of hours. Steve said that about 10 minutes after I left, the talking and restlessness stopped and Dad slept more peacefully.  He said his breathing got a little quieter but it still seemed to be quite regular. At about 11:45 Steve laid down in the spare bedroom across the hall and dozed off a little.  About ½ hour later he heard a thump and went over to investigate. He found a flashlight that had been on the headboard lying on the floor (which he thinks was the thump that woke him) and Dad was lying with his body partly off the edge of the bed. Obviously we don’t know what happened and we can only assume.  I think maybe Dad tried to get out of bed and was going to use the flashlight as light (even though the hall light was on). Steve put his hand on Dad’s shoulder and asked him if he was all right.  There was no response so Steve lifted him back on to the bed. When he picked him up Steve said his body just went rigid. After laying him on the bed, Dad took a breath and then about a minute later he inhaled another breath but never left it out again. Steve looked at the clock and it was 12:27. Of course, Steve knew that he was dead. He came and woke me and we went back up to Dad’s house.  I called all my siblings and Lois and Jim came to the house. Les would have come but was working the nightshift and was unable to come right away so he said to not wait for him.   I called 911 but told them my father was already dead so they did not come with sirens. The police also came which is standard procedure whenever the ambulance is called. After the EMT’s saw that Dad was dead they said I could call his family doctor and if he agreed to sign the death certificate we could just call the undertaker to take the body. Otherwise we would have to get the coroner to come. I was able to call Dr. Mohler and he said he would sign the certificate so we were able to have the undertaker come and take the body.  By the time they left with the body it was 3:45 am.

                Looking back over the last couple days there are so many things to be thankful for.

·         Dad always wanted to die at home and it is such a blessing that he was able to do that and to have it happen so quickly is a double blessing.

·         He had no pain at all.

·         Dad was ready to die. I know Glen mentioned that Dad told him often that he knew where he was going and when the time came to die he would not fight it but welcome it.

·         Even though Gene was in Bulgaria I am so thankful that we were able to be in contact with him.

·         I have an amazing family (husband, children and siblings) and I want to personally thank you for your support over this time and throughout my life as well. Each of you have been a blessing to me in different and special ways.

·         I am so thankful for the wonderful friends in my life as well. All of you mean so much to me.

There will probably always be some regret for me that I was not actually there when Dad died. I would never have left if I had known he only had another 1 ½ hours to live, but I just have to accept that and I will be okay with it.

Mary