tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16822023263871336622024-02-19T09:32:12.427-06:00My Journey Through GriefDiscussing my experience as I deal with my father's death.Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00893512619061563243noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1682202326387133662.post-59413149974548452672017-02-06T04:20:00.000-06:002017-04-08T09:12:56.545-05:00I'll Fly AwayAs Dad grew older, he came to accept his death.<br />
<br />
When Dad first broke his hip in 2008, he thought of the old hymn, "I'll Fly Away."<br />
"Some glad morning when this life is o'er, I'll fly away..."<br />
<br />
As the years went on and his body gave way to aging, he looked forward to that glad morning.<br />
<br />
A month or two before dad passed, Dad laid in bed sick. I went into the bedroom and laid next to him. He said to me "My heart has been beating for ninety-five years and that's a lot of pounding." He had become weary. His body was wearing out.<br />
<br />
Death was not something he wanted to avoid. During a visit to the heart doctor to discuss the TAVR (Transcatheter Aortic Valve Replacement) procedure, Dad said he did not want the TAVR. The decision made him happy.<br />
Helping him with a needed change of clothes one day, Dad was worried it was a trick. He did want to see any more doctors. He had accepted it was his time to fly away.<br />
<br />
While I had hoped for him to have the operation, I realized how cruel it would be to convince him to have the procedure, extend his life, and not allow him to live his life as he desired.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00893512619061563243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1682202326387133662.post-83822309803828150612017-01-30T04:20:00.000-06:002017-01-30T04:20:02.773-06:00Grief by the bookMy experience with grief has been a strange journey. Weird and wonderful has been the best description. I have enjoyed scanning the pictures from my mom's. Sitting in my Dad's place on the couch while looking through his Bible. And recording mom as I gather stories from her life.<br />
I was aware of the stages of grief but was I experiencing them.? <span style="background-color: #f5f6f5;">I had been told about anticipatory </span><span style="background-color: #f5f6f5;">grief during the visitation the night before the funeral. Could this be what I am encountering?</span> Was I going through denial? Nothing seemed to be what I expected.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9NRC0cxmCkh63msQA7krOjXD7yeYsxz3OjySfjshsCQbA2cl9gAhnikngvWX3hJzygpVAKCSFqyTtHIdTT_WkskhXQZDXDBvzS1rmrcbk0p4zBUhbWIx0DrILoJlJ_1jdyzuVnabjmQ/s1600/51vmEsRj3PL._SX328_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9NRC0cxmCkh63msQA7krOjXD7yeYsxz3OjySfjshsCQbA2cl9gAhnikngvWX3hJzygpVAKCSFqyTtHIdTT_WkskhXQZDXDBvzS1rmrcbk0p4zBUhbWIx0DrILoJlJ_1jdyzuVnabjmQ/s320/51vmEsRj3PL._SX328_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
So recently I have decided to buy a book on grief. It was not my intention to buy any books, figuring most books were full of crap. One day, while examining the books at Barnes and Noble, a book entitled, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Grief-Journey-Finding-Your-Through/dp/1476771480">Grief is Journey</a> by Dr. Kenneth J Doka, stood out. Not just that the title of the book resembles the title of my blog, but some of the points fit with my experience.The price for the Amazon Kindle version was 13.99, and so I have purchased it for the Amazon Kindle.<br />
<br />
An initial point concerned the five stages of grief. It's more about our experience with illness and dying, not about grieving. I was finding it difficult to see these, in my life. It's good to know they are not about those grieving the loss. I was bewildered by what I was experiencing.<br />
<br />
When writing about offering condolences, Dr. Doka says not to provide platitudes as <i>He is in a better place. </i> A better place doesn't need him. He was needed here. A better place does not need his generosity. A better place will not need his advice. A better place does not need his knowledge. Those things are essential on Earth.<br />
<br />
I am through with part 1. Part 2 deals with various type of loss. I may just skip to the part on a death of a parent, then go back to other chapters.<br />
<br />
<br />Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00893512619061563243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1682202326387133662.post-76486097668938836052017-01-25T04:20:00.000-06:002017-01-25T10:29:54.104-06:00A New YearIt is now six months since Dad has passed away, While it has only been six months, we are in a new year. But saying ""My Dad passed away last year." makes it seem much further away This new year means the first year full year without him. Do not have some part of the year with him, seems weird.<br />
<br />
<br />Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00893512619061563243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1682202326387133662.post-28034209385172186372016-12-25T04:20:00.000-06:002016-12-25T04:20:01.329-06:00 Christmas TimeToday marks five months exactly since Dad's passing.<br />
<br />
I love any time traveling movie:<br />
."The Time Machine" (1960)<br />
"Time After Time" (1979),<br />
"Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure" ( 1989)<br />
"Back to the Future" I, II, and III (1985, 1989, 1990)<br />
"About Time" (2013)<br />
I even like "Hot Tub Time Machine<br />
Thinking back to all my past Christmases, I never ever had to work on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. I don't remember ever not spending Christmas with my Mom and Dad. This is the first Christmas Eve and Day without my Dad. If I ever was away from either of them, I do not recall.<br />
<br />
One Christmas I bought a trophy for horseshoes. He had won some trophies but they were used for second place and lower. But everytime he was part of the winning team, he did not recieve a trophy. So I went to a local store in Fargo ND and purchsed a trophy. I don't recall what the troyphy says.<br />
<br />
One Christmas I gave Dad a DVD with the best of the Andy Girffith Show. We stayed up late, 10 PM, watching it. He shared remembering watching television with his mother.<br />
<br />
He never needed anything. Finding a gift that just said "I love you Dad." was not always easy to find.<br />
<br />
Dad loved chocolate covered peanuts Candy was always a good buy.<br />
<br />
If I could go back in time. I would want to go back to Christmas 1968, my first Christmas. Now<br />
But since time machinses to not exist we use pictures We are so lucky now to have ways of caputring these moments.<br />
During the project of scanning in pictures, I have discovered some pictures from Christmas 1968. We were spending Christmas at my Mom's father's home.<br />
<br />
Now we are not talking about a quantum leap method where I would have to take the place of someone, but as I am now. I would be a stranger, but yet Dad would know who I was.<br />
<br />
When I think of the past<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2RTgQcDOh6cXWBHcGPkqW9x1S4RHIGcE51EjHm7RG0_5hyphenhyphenwPDOMfOAGnNu7KdF7-Qe8_ip3AlfQ9cdQRhX9zJpGgvXNpBQgH5m6uMmw7t9F3U1QtB1zYeBYBNmsDmpOeAJ67J2tE6rec/s1600/Christmas+1968+Mom+and+PArker.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2RTgQcDOh6cXWBHcGPkqW9x1S4RHIGcE51EjHm7RG0_5hyphenhyphenwPDOMfOAGnNu7KdF7-Qe8_ip3AlfQ9cdQRhX9zJpGgvXNpBQgH5m6uMmw7t9F3U1QtB1zYeBYBNmsDmpOeAJ67J2tE6rec/s200/Christmas+1968+Mom+and+PArker.jpg" width="193" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMf60nvvb9vLtxPH8-W7Cpi0l7fRVlpX_2wfmMsoyXw8Dfkmr9tMtvG1EK3Z5j00V_Cd4HVww098mWbgPuF3ENHwrWsM-JhYv7O7oRzjZBQRrODCEKz8lt3J8E-tde-2RbykpKNqrktgc/s1600/Chirstmas+1968+Aitken+1968+1.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNtQjxq9lTGYkMchBZHmr_g5-RcOyGhE_NhEWpiKTomvVduwd8q5yJ1mZZi6s7R93RNRzTU0n4B64N9OaGkv5JJPyXBrNH42dKyWBDVn6xipzQY9pdENMYhivLfaPO20AdkK22yEcFXMs/s1600/Christmas+1968+Aitkin+MN.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNtQjxq9lTGYkMchBZHmr_g5-RcOyGhE_NhEWpiKTomvVduwd8q5yJ1mZZi6s7R93RNRzTU0n4B64N9OaGkv5JJPyXBrNH42dKyWBDVn6xipzQY9pdENMYhivLfaPO20AdkK22yEcFXMs/s200/Christmas+1968+Aitkin+MN.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
I don't recall there ever being anything like a car seat. Maybe Mom held me in her lap the whole trip. My two older brothers sitting in the back.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.wunderground.com/history/airport/KAIT/1968/12/18/MonthlyCalendar.html?req_city=&req_state=&req_statename=&reqdb.zip=&reqdb.magic=&reqdb.wmo=">Weather Underground</a> showed the temperatures for Aitkin Mn During this time as being a high of 18 on Christmas Eve. 16 on Christmas day. The days surrounding that time 18-20 for highs.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIa2_0TMnxcFoPCcyEiT8Nmkqi6KtKjuRtXD0Mquab7GaWmIRT6Yu_6qjY4UnuOmJh7i3JzT3CQLlYLaFLXj7cOHcfquLgNqfURjMhm-hFwtVyZmSwQBUNUVHLO7ZYS5t94iLJSfQ85-o/s1600/Christmas+Aotkin+1968.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIa2_0TMnxcFoPCcyEiT8Nmkqi6KtKjuRtXD0Mquab7GaWmIRT6Yu_6qjY4UnuOmJh7i3JzT3CQLlYLaFLXj7cOHcfquLgNqfURjMhm-hFwtVyZmSwQBUNUVHLO7ZYS5t94iLJSfQ85-o/s200/Christmas+Aotkin+1968.jpg" width="196" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sharing a meal with them would<br />
be wonderful.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMf60nvvb9vLtxPH8-W7Cpi0l7fRVlpX_2wfmMsoyXw8Dfkmr9tMtvG1EK3Z5j00V_Cd4HVww098mWbgPuF3ENHwrWsM-JhYv7O7oRzjZBQRrODCEKz8lt3J8E-tde-2RbykpKNqrktgc/s1600/Chirstmas+1968+Aitken+1968+1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMf60nvvb9vLtxPH8-W7Cpi0l7fRVlpX_2wfmMsoyXw8Dfkmr9tMtvG1EK3Z5j00V_Cd4HVww098mWbgPuF3ENHwrWsM-JhYv7O7oRzjZBQRrODCEKz8lt3J8E-tde-2RbykpKNqrktgc/s200/Chirstmas+1968+Aitken+1968+1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
To sit at the table and share a meal with them. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiijDr2DZdTNCxBMsTSnmll6_yrjW1Ni4Ppr2FKWfbSn9FL8KO6C5_GEhAtEF-GkI3Yu1xmv6hTYO39uM2DDygXerKxHMacl6hIMxPC_YsZIc3_am0iDcoKKOD8LEEr4PYlaT9Hc5ITbw4/s1600/christmas+1968++opening+presents+cropped.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiijDr2DZdTNCxBMsTSnmll6_yrjW1Ni4Ppr2FKWfbSn9FL8KO6C5_GEhAtEF-GkI3Yu1xmv6hTYO39uM2DDygXerKxHMacl6hIMxPC_YsZIc3_am0iDcoKKOD8LEEr4PYlaT9Hc5ITbw4/s200/christmas+1968++opening+presents+cropped.jpg" width="199" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad would be 47 years old. I am now<br />
older than him in this picture</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYvu5apmwJCsha_E9KybLyL1M2opBP2U-vmNkDeykyBbmMKHuJccr2IUiNxIjdVMvo2BcEF6_HunRL9E_zY7kay9d5g0FeLoBnESz8_KTmWb6GtCt9Xenuc8jOK1K5PnBqMfKVXpMiWc/s1600/Christmas+1968+by+the+tree.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYvu5apmwJCsha_E9KybLyL1M2opBP2U-vmNkDeykyBbmMKHuJccr2IUiNxIjdVMvo2BcEF6_HunRL9E_zY7kay9d5g0FeLoBnESz8_KTmWb6GtCt9Xenuc8jOK1K5PnBqMfKVXpMiWc/s200/Christmas+1968+by+the+tree.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
I would like to know what all the presents were. What was the music being played? I wonder if the tree was real.<br />
<br />
Another method to takes us back to those moments is diaries. Mom will allow to me look through her diaries after she passes, but maybe I could get her to review some entries now. I would love to learn about the past Christmases. Diaries can be the best thing let us know our history. I would love to see those Christmas pasts. <br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaks390utYmvIkneUIzQcUItsco5_wL038Z2yYiVgntmpWDryk8y87CjsVekePGY4k7sp0N7X1oIU9vZmCNdMouk_sv73xNFM-idWPsT_8VF2kXvb8RTpw2sP73IAB5jTv-MycQeduExM/s1600/Christmas+1968++with+Auntie.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaks390utYmvIkneUIzQcUItsco5_wL038Z2yYiVgntmpWDryk8y87CjsVekePGY4k7sp0N7X1oIU9vZmCNdMouk_sv73xNFM-idWPsT_8VF2kXvb8RTpw2sP73IAB5jTv-MycQeduExM/s200/Christmas+1968++with+Auntie.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8BD0gKhr4eEIjtd0oEOXKa2E7zFSstNxb-J5YMmheyRifPN_g9ae6XYKkWvzQxmucsBLGvz-VtFJc1-wIVQ3vZRvygq8fLjyYXNA0PUu54jaAmxcjWRPe5_3GEiV4cp9lPFflmcAMHU/s1600/Christmas+1968+a.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8BD0gKhr4eEIjtd0oEOXKa2E7zFSstNxb-J5YMmheyRifPN_g9ae6XYKkWvzQxmucsBLGvz-VtFJc1-wIVQ3vZRvygq8fLjyYXNA0PUu54jaAmxcjWRPe5_3GEiV4cp9lPFflmcAMHU/s200/Christmas+1968+a.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsJfFUWQX3J-V7o_bHYcStuiq5Kfwal_pUQBMVwON4s7luHSAJ51WSD4svYnS6jNkPI4gQYuh-jKWnYGtM2nb-KIZxajFLA4y7voCIdg1ErzOhfOh5fdDfk8Msji1xM03aYx3DFZbh08/s1600/Christmas+1968.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsJfFUWQX3J-V7o_bHYcStuiq5Kfwal_pUQBMVwON4s7luHSAJ51WSD4svYnS6jNkPI4gQYuh-jKWnYGtM2nb-KIZxajFLA4y7voCIdg1ErzOhfOh5fdDfk8Msji1xM03aYx3DFZbh08/s200/Christmas+1968.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnUPCEvj6Rm0G7f-LPjF4GRNsEkiNKkTpF3WaQvFWD0o7qAIKmGEmNL27ry0Fy6vG-KHHgQaCBrKtlX2hyglP__LLqRiz5RAq3M1o3u9OODTjjwlXP6bqXM__nQb3uIRSkG_9dGVzA_yQ/s1600/Christmas+1968hanging+stockings+1968.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnUPCEvj6Rm0G7f-LPjF4GRNsEkiNKkTpF3WaQvFWD0o7qAIKmGEmNL27ry0Fy6vG-KHHgQaCBrKtlX2hyglP__LLqRiz5RAq3M1o3u9OODTjjwlXP6bqXM__nQb3uIRSkG_9dGVzA_yQ/s200/Christmas+1968hanging+stockings+1968.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNEOd1SaiA2-Xl33VTVfKM80yUMwsmkASzeaqMGFvE4GsM8gQo8WQuDlMUqBvwLB5qxgFg0ZW_7M8qGPP0eHUNEmi_i4twc_HgV5BuVFR_9wN13QoihvXZ-za8xJmedDWW06g-rR7pFEU/s1600/Christmas+1968+by+candy+houses.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNEOd1SaiA2-Xl33VTVfKM80yUMwsmkASzeaqMGFvE4GsM8gQo8WQuDlMUqBvwLB5qxgFg0ZW_7M8qGPP0eHUNEmi_i4twc_HgV5BuVFR_9wN13QoihvXZ-za8xJmedDWW06g-rR7pFEU/s200/Christmas+1968+by+candy+houses.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00893512619061563243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1682202326387133662.post-13973703275814641282016-12-19T04:20:00.000-06:002016-12-19T04:20:02.145-06:00Advice from my Dad<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Advice from my Father.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The advice I received from my Dad was both direct and indirect. The indirect were those things you would see him do. You knew it was important.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Here is some direct advice he gave.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Marry a woman who had her appendix out, has a fur coat and has lots of money. And if you could find a woman like that, why not?</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Here is a video of Dad giving me that advice.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwjPF_Y4jmzxYOA9v9rb77TmVfYGhCChBu1fdzyVLoUFmQWvpmZHAv3Ow2Rp0ukVXWcTWY9nyfloypcn6Awyw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
<br />
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Dad was asked by my brother Paul about advice Dad would want to give to future generations. Here is a clip of that.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx0gWW76ce2gRkX8a06TQ2nWmwbniQ3Jrz0drfPWvb59Mw7e3GTPlohXFK_CRMNz-v9ibQb4nuemQ7Aycn_yw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Indirect advice.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Use the scripture daily.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After breakfast, Dad would sit on the couch at his spot, open his Bible and go through a devotional. Looking through his Bible, I could see it was not a meaningless book to him. He would in color pencil underline scriptures. It was not an old book for use in the past it was something useful now.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Pray.<br />
Dad did not limit his prayers to before meals, but prayer was used during trials. Heading into breakfast one morning some weeks before his death, I saw Dad holding mom's hand as they prayed. Praying through the struggles coming with Aortic Stenosis.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Save money. A lesson learned during the depression staying with him throughout his life.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Get the most out of things you have. From adding a bit of water to the ketchup to get every last drop, to trying to fix glasses when they got broken, and turning two wooden grain bins into a wood shop and wood storage.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Laugh.<br />
Dad loved laughing. When I was young, and I thought Mom and Dad were both away from home, I quickly changed clothes turned on TV as I enjoyed my time alone. Some strange noise was coming from the living room closet. I approached the door listening for the sound. I opened up the door, and Dad let out a loud yell scaring me. Boy did I jump. Dad laughed. He loved laughing.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Don't be afraid to say you are sorry.</div>
<br />
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
October 2015, after having fallen and breaking his arm, afterwardsDad was in Manor Care in Fargo. One day he had a fight with mom. The next morning, Mom told me about their fight as I drove her to Manor Care. She stopped at the front desk to see if an appointment with a heart surgeon had been made. I went ahead, to find Dad eating breakfast. I sat next to him. He tells me “I said some mean things to your mother.” I nodded to him and said “I know”. He asked about her, I told her where she was.<br />
When Mom came into the room Dad raised his right arm, wrapped in the fiberglass cast, waving her over to him. He reached up to her hugging her crying as he said he was sorry.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_dVprDlblxcl7F9iQk454iUTRnImiiy_mHgo07j3hzGxqv930lr8_MHJYkFhi9Zxoh-THBF0cuwYiAVb8LnnyCGdh5mOEwnuWbHogtXNOVwo2wpJyPqPiodH1CJCo3DFFVMNai56VDNw/s1600/IMG_20150930_113639.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_dVprDlblxcl7F9iQk454iUTRnImiiy_mHgo07j3hzGxqv930lr8_MHJYkFhi9Zxoh-THBF0cuwYiAVb8LnnyCGdh5mOEwnuWbHogtXNOVwo2wpJyPqPiodH1CJCo3DFFVMNai56VDNw/s320/IMG_20150930_113639.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
When I was younger school had a Halloween event where we would dress up in costumes. When I reached fifth grade I was past the level for that event. Mom and Dad concerned I was missing out, gathered items to make a custome.<br />
So err on the side of helping people and learning they had no need. Better than not helping, and learn of them having great need.<br />
<br />
Our father was a very wise man, May his wisdom guide me the rest of my days.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00893512619061563243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1682202326387133662.post-28203725577505088892016-10-31T08:02:00.000-05:002016-12-19T03:39:45.609-06:00Halloween<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I have been thinking about Halloween's past. Using a Cheerio box, and some green construction paper to make a Frankenstein mask Remembering all the candy.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But one Halloween sticks out.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I was in either 4<sup>th</sup> or 5<sup>th</sup> grade, in previous classes on or near Halloween the classes from kindergarten to 3<sup>rd</sup> or 4<sup>th</sup> grade would dress up in costumes and run around in the gym. In my current grade we did not dress up But Dad and Mom were not aware of this fact.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So concerned I was going to be left out they gathered together items to make a costume including some Halloween make up. Dad drove into the school to give me the items. I, being a stupid kid, feeling embarrassed was more mad than thankful.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If I could quantum leap back in time to that moment, I would thank Dad for bringing it in, and I would want to give him a hug.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Thank you ,Mom. and Dad.,</div>
Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00893512619061563243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1682202326387133662.post-1782120425464569002016-10-25T04:20:00.000-05:002016-12-19T03:40:47.961-06:00Always Look On The Bright Side of Life<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Some things in life are bad,</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">They can really make you mad.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Other things just make you swear and curse.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">When you're chewing on life's gristle,</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Don't grumble, give a whistle!</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">And this'll help things turn out for the best </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">And </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Always look on the bright side of life!</span></span> …</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">If life seems jolly rotten,</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">There's something you've forgotten!</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing,</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">When you're feeling in the dumps,</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Don't be silly chumps,</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Just purse your lips and whistle -- that's the thing!</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">And always look on the bright side of life </span></span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” is a song I have come to love. Is Life treating you poorly? Find the bright side. Find joy. </span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Philippians 4:8&9</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="en-NKJV-29452"></a> <span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 9pt;"><b>8 </b></span></span>Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things <i>are</i> noble, whatever things <i>are</i> just, whatever things <i>are</i> pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things <i>are</i> of good report, if <i>there is</i> any virtue and if there<i> is</i> anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things. <span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 9pt;"><b>9 </b></span></span>The things which you learned and received and heard and saw in me, these do, and the God of peace will be with you. </span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Paul encouraged the people of the Church at Philippi to think of the best.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">So... </span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Think of something that makes you laugh.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Think of something that makes you smile.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Think of something that makes you dance.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Think of something to sing.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Think of something to whistle. </span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Before Dad passed, I considered the day of the funeral would be full of Joy. </span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">I had reached and passed by more than a year the age my father was when I was born. I did not believe I would reach that age with him alive, but I reached it. I remember having lunch on the day I passed the exact age year, month, day, and minute. He was living in his nineties. I was surprised he lived through his seventies, through his eighties, and now he had reached ninety-five. I had many more years than expected. I was blessed with time. </span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">So many more hugs. Even a few fist pumps. Just siting with Dad. I experienced great blessing with so many moments of love expressed. I learned to express love better. To show love and not be afraid. What a wonderful gift Dad gave me. </span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">I imagined I would go from table to table collecting memories. But I only collected one new story. It was a great story however.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Funerals are how we begin to say goodbye. The beginning of remembering. For it is not enough time from a person's death to funeral It never is. So you move forward and continue the process of grieving and of remembering. </span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Remembering the laughter shared. The smiles shared. </span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">The time spent in the shop with him. </span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">All the great memories. Looking through and scanning all the pictures mom has at the farm is helping to see the bright side of life.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Always look on the bright side of life.</span></div>
Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00893512619061563243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1682202326387133662.post-67171179872905475682016-09-28T04:20:00.000-05:002016-12-19T03:42:11.094-06:00Weird and Wonderful <div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Two words, weird and wonderful, are not words I would have expected to describe theses last two months. Weird I can understand, but wonderful?</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But I found many moments of wonderful?</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hugging my brother Jim was wonderful as we briefly cried together next to dad's body. Most of my hugs were with Dad and Mom. It was the first time I hugged Jim. I was hugging a lot that next week and month. Even hugging some other men who are not huggers. Dad had helped me with getting comfortable with hugging. One time a couple of years back I did not hug someone because I was not feeling the freshest, and I regretted not giving her a hug. I feel a need to hug others now.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Singing the Beatles song “Good Night” as I lay next to his body. With Spotify having the Beatles available, I have been able to hear all of the Beatles recordings. “Good Night” is a song I had not heard until Spotify carried it. Golden Slumbers seemed to be for a female, while “Good Night” works for anyone. We say rest in peace when talking of those who have passed, and a lullaby seemed so appropriate.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Putting together the videos we had with Dad for the funeral and then reworking it again afterward when I had more time. I so enjoyed the creative expression. I am not good at making something requiring an artistic touch; I don't eyeball things well. Making a video is very precise, but yet it allows for creativity. I need to interview Mom and put together a video of mom telling of her and Dad's story.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Holding my mom's hand while sitting at the table in Dad's chair and saying his prayer before the meal. I loved hearing Dad pray before lunch. I made a couple of recordings of it. While it may have slight variations at different times, it is the same.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Dear Lord.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We thank you now for this Day.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We thank you now or this food.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We ask now that you be with us, and guide us.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We pray this in your precious name.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Amen.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Not that it was the only time I saw him pray. One morning when I was home, shortly before he passed, I walked into the living room looking into the kitchen seeing Dad holding Mom's hand while they prayed. It was so sweet I wanted to take a picture, but it seemed very private as well. In 2008 after Dad had broken his hip while at Church camp during the healing service, I asked to pray for Dad. So I prayed with Dad for his hip. During times of struggle Dad would pray. So it was not just before meals.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A good talk with my brother Paul. As I took him to the Airport, we had a good discussion. I don't talk with him too much, and we had a good conversation as I drove him to Fargo.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Listening over and over again to the songs selected for the funeral. I made a playlist of the songs sung at the funeral and two songs used as music before the service One being “Good Night” by The Beatles. The others were “There is a River”, pre-service music, then “I'll Fly Away”, and “Life's Railway to Heaven”. (I remember watching RFD-TV show “Country Gospel Reunion” when she told me of that being a good song for either of their funerals.) Finally “God Be With You.” Those songs now hold such precious memories and give me such comfort.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sitting at Dad's spot on the couch, and looking through his Bible at scripture he underlined. He did not just read his Bible he worked through it, underlining passages and studying it. The Bible was not a passive object to him but something that was living.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was wonderful to wear his BetaSeed hat as I worked on the farm. Touching, wearing or sitting what he touched, wore, and sat connects me to him. It makes him feel close to me. And it brings me comfort.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Many things are not as I thought they would be, many of the things I have experienced are weird and wonderful.</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Yb267yNQaBUk-11SRgZRpPlMQ2UArcAE4N12sL75wZVWTeRoYa4AshXk-GUVJvw930KVXXguLqx4Dy1IA3g99zKJlXqg4lehFZSj_3_hWPFtigIBHdVb3iKLnH_m3Qk3AyTyEk9xYF0/s1600/IMG_20131104_141335.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Yb267yNQaBUk-11SRgZRpPlMQ2UArcAE4N12sL75wZVWTeRoYa4AshXk-GUVJvw930KVXXguLqx4Dy1IA3g99zKJlXqg4lehFZSj_3_hWPFtigIBHdVb3iKLnH_m3Qk3AyTyEk9xYF0/s320/IMG_20131104_141335.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad would hold Mom's hand while they would pray. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00893512619061563243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1682202326387133662.post-16737459148035060302016-09-26T04:20:00.001-05:002016-12-19T03:42:42.202-06:00 “...Dad passed away”<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3FVsuRq90iO1eo6_zHwC0qByFwTdDYfh9TyzOcG3YjqqRdRzFrUH2dL6fzGL7CvyTQtaDnl2s-DtCTgK6dM2HwMaXyy1ZxLmyzok4tA7I0EqoVAa1rqO7abe7hvvTRQWBwU3y2jwSHVg/s1600/IMG_20160516_160614+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3FVsuRq90iO1eo6_zHwC0qByFwTdDYfh9TyzOcG3YjqqRdRzFrUH2dL6fzGL7CvyTQtaDnl2s-DtCTgK6dM2HwMaXyy1ZxLmyzok4tA7I0EqoVAa1rqO7abe7hvvTRQWBwU3y2jwSHVg/s640/IMG_20160516_160614+%25282%2529.jpg" width="507" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad wanted to have a garden so we purchased some seed and did some planting.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I had thought about the many scenarios when dad died. What would I do if I was at work, at my apartment or my parents home? My brother, Paul would have to be told by phone, and it would have to be voice to voice, not text and no leaving a message. I did not want to tell Jim by phone but face to face.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But things don't always go as we wish.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When informed I was not alone. I was with mom, and in a sense with Dad. Jim was alone. I did not want him to be alone when I told him.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now, two months later, I am not 100% certain who I told first. I suspect Jim. He would have been the one brother who would be able to do something immediately. I told each one the same thing.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Sometime between 4 and 4:30, Dad passed away.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was straightforward and to the point, but yet seemed like it was not the right words. But what else could one say?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Many other people I imagined telling face to face. As many cousins as possible, and the pallbearers. Also, I imagined I would tell his sister Doris, face to face. News like this seems too impersonal over the phone But I was home already. So phone calls were used.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When Jim arrived at the farm, about 8:30 in the morning, Tim Anderson of the funeral home was discussing things with Mom. I greeted Jim at the front door, walked with him to the bedroom.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He looked at Dad and began to sob. I joined him in sobbing. It has been the only time cried since his death. <span style="background-color: #f5f6f5;">I don't know why that was the only time I cried. It was brief but </span>beautiful<span style="background-color: #f5f6f5;">.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I opened up my arms; he approached me, and I embraced him. In the many years before Dad passing, I would give my father many hugs. I was now a hugger. During this moment of sadness, It was splendid to hug Jim and sob with him.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00893512619061563243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1682202326387133662.post-83546897759562525402016-09-25T04:20:00.000-05:002016-12-19T03:44:05.012-06:00He's Gone<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC3x9tYypohsvc2V-Tp7wWltGtZUNIPSn2xF_cZPDi9yp7LJ3ty6ixPdIq68up1wgDj_BS2vA-AYMmbYCy0oUZryo-PW2676Ituvkipj0e7v0eEMnGx60t1VCymQzqKWNFCC_kHcd-UKo/s1600/IMG_20150928_164440+%25282%2529.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC3x9tYypohsvc2V-Tp7wWltGtZUNIPSn2xF_cZPDi9yp7LJ3ty6ixPdIq68up1wgDj_BS2vA-AYMmbYCy0oUZryo-PW2676Ituvkipj0e7v0eEMnGx60t1VCymQzqKWNFCC_kHcd-UKo/s400/IMG_20150928_164440+%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good Night Dad, Sleep Tight</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Here is my first entry. It is now two months since Dad left us.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
4:20 AM, Monday, July 25<sup>th</sup> ,2016 An emergency alarm set for calls from my parents awakened me. I reached the phone, but voice mail had picked up. I begin calling them back and after three busy tones, It finally connected</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mom answered.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“ Your father had another fainting spell, and he ended up rolling out of bed. I need you to come home.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright I will gather my stuff and head straight home,” I replied</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Take your time. You know it takes awhile for your father come out of these spells” With Dad's aortic stenosis fainting had become more familiar.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After the call had ended, I gathered together my items, loaded up and drove home to my parent's farm.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I arrived home around 5:40 AM. I saw someone in the driveway standing outside. He was not Stuart, the renter of my parents land. Who he was I did not know. I parked in front of the garage, headed to the front door of the house and into my parent's bedroom.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I walked to the west side of the room by the side between the wall and Dad's side of the bed. I saw him face down next to the bed and no movement.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“He's gone.” My mother said.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For a brief moment, I thought she was talking about the person who was now standing outside. Then I realized what she was saying. My Dad had died.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I turned to her and said “Oh you mean he's dead”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I looked back at my Dad's body, Shook my head and said “Hm.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I shrugged my shoulders and bent down grabbing my Dad's body and worked toward moving him back to bed. If it were on film, it would be very comical, as I wrestled with my dad's body while moving him back to bed. Once he was in bed, I placed a blanket over him as if he was just in bed sleeping. For three brief moments, I laid next to my father.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The first time I laid next to him and sang the Beatles song “Good Night” as I had planned to do.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 9pt;">Now it's time to say good night</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 9pt;">Good night, sleep tight</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 9pt;">Now the sun turns out his light</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 9pt;">Good night, sleep tight</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 9pt;">Dream sweet dreams for me</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 9pt;">Dream sweet dreams for you</span></span></span>
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For a couple of more times, I laid next to him. One time I just laid next to him and the other time I rubbed his neck as if it had been just another fainting spell.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I was surprised dad lived to be 95. But for many years prior, his passing was continually on my mind. Each time I would say goodbye, I thought it would be the last goodbye. When I would tell him good night, it was possible I may not see him alive in the morning.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The final goodbye was the Tuesday before his death. I had been home to take them to a funeral. While Dad wanted to attend, he did not feel up to going. As I head out, Dad stood up, I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight. I said,“Goodbye Dad, I love you.”<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was a good hug and an excellent last goodbye.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00893512619061563243noreply@blogger.com0