Good-Bye

Tomorrow night at 9:15 it will be two weeks exactly since I got the call that my grandfather, my dad's dad, had taken his final breath. He took it with all of his children and his wife gathered around him. He took it after three solid days of being surrounded by loved ones - sang to, prayed over, and loved on. I have written about Grandaddy before in a previous post (Leave Something Beautiful) and, though he lived an amazing, inspiring life, it is not his life that I want to write about today. It is the way in which he left by which I have been so touched and given such a sense of peace since his passing.

It was a Tuesday night when my parents got the call that Grandaddy had taken a turn for the worse. Hospice had been called in in the weeks prior, and it appeared to Nana, a former nurse, that this would be the end. All of their children and their children's spouses drove to my grandparents' ranch and arrived around midnight. Grandaddy had been placed on oxygen and was given a prognosis of just hours to live. The next morning, however, Grandaddy announced that he wanted to get up. The announcement in itself was amazing, as he had barely uttered any words the previous day. My father dressed him and brought him into the living room to sit with his family. Everyone was amazed by this, as they thought he would never again rise from the confines of the hospital bed set up in his bedroom.

Mom and Dad called me that evening to tell me of the day they shared with Grandaddy. He experienced an inexplicable amount of alertness and vitality that day, which apparently often happens when someone is about to die. (In fact, my dad remembers Grandaddy, who was a doctor, telling loved ones of dying patients that it is common for someone to rally strength to say good-bye just prior to their death.) A woman from their church brought communion and the whole family shared in Grandaddy's last communion service. Their Episcopal priest came out and did a Last Rites service for Grandaddy. These events were deep with meaning for the whole family and were fitting ceremonies for my grandparents, who have spent the last several years pausing each day at 5:00 for their evening prayers and scripture readings.

Grandaddy was able to sit up for most of the day and respond to his children as they took turns blessing his life and thanking him for the qualities he had so faithfully instilled in them over the years. They reminisced about stories from their childhood and all of the adventures they had been on with this fearless adventurer. They sang his favorite hymns to him (and even a rousing rendition of the Aggie Fight Song). My father gave him his last bath, his last shave. They shared with him in his last cup of coffee.

To the last, Grandaddy hung on to his spark and his sense of humor that had always been such a significant part of who he was. He pretended to try to trip people as they walked past, he squirted my father with the shower hose when taking his bath (Grandaddy always did love a good water fight), he was fully present with his family as they said their good-byes to this man we all loved so dearly. It was a beautiful day and the perfect way to honor his beautiful life.

Even though I wasn't there, I feel a deep sense of peace about the last days of Grandaddy's life. I feel thankful to have known his so well and for so long. I feel honored to be a part of his family and of his great legacy of love. Grandaddy lived a full life with no regrets, and he shared of himself with others so fully that those who know him are left with no regrets in his passing. His death was a good-bye in the truest sense of the word.

Good-bye, Grandaddy. I can still hear your hearty laughter ringing through the house; I can still feel your scratchy mustache when you'd greet me with a kiss; I can still see your strong hands working on the ranch, teaching me to build tree-houses and rafts, but more importantly, teaching me the value of a strong work ethic and what I am capable of when I try my hardest; I can still smell the thousands of pine trees we would plant together to make this world a greener place; I can still remember the encouragement I felt in your presence, the way you listened to people with your whole being. Thank you for who you were, for it has made me who I am. Thank you for leaving me with so many wonderful memories. I will hold tightly to them until we meet again...