On Wednesday, in the early morning, my dear 95 year-old Dad died quietly in bed, in his assisted living apartment.
From September 28 to October 9, I visited him in rehab and through his return to assisted living. I'm so glad I did. As challenging as those days were, I have wonderful memories because of the time we spent together, generally chatting and visiting throughout each day.
The past week has been difficult, though every person I've been in contact with has been supportive. Just don't be too nice to me, or I will cry more, as I did when my virtual Bible study sisters (we meet weekly on Zoom) at
Lutheran Church of Hope (West Des Moines, Iowa) sent this bouquet Wednesday afternoon. So thoughtful, and tear-inducing.
Though I've felt conflicted about whether to write about my Dad in a blog post, I also want to honor him here because he was a loyal FlourishingPalms blog-reader. When we chatted every Sunday afternoon, he would sometimes remark about something I posted about, and we'd talk about it. Several years ago he told me:
"I know more about quilting than most men!"
Dad, you make me laugh.
Most often our conversations revolved around books. When his vision began failing, several years ago I encouraged him to get a public library card and begin listening to books. From that point on, he listened to audiobooks on his computer, finishing each title at a rapid rate. I would often suggest titles and authors he might like; he didn't care for storylines that jumped around, like from "now" to "then." He particularly enjoyed two authors: Spencer Quinn who wrote the "Chet and Bernie" stories (about a dog and a detective); and every book written by William Kent Krueger. I think Dad liked WKK books because many take place in an area of Minnesota Dad was familiar with, from his days working in agriculture sales for Monsanto.
Dad enjoyed watching vlogs (YouTube video blogs) about agriculture and farming, and subscribed to several of them. I sometimes knew more about happenings with the
Millennial Farmer and
Welker family than I did about our own family!
Having similar political views, Dad and I would amicably talk about politics. He also liked talking about his favorite football team, The Ohio State Buckeyes. Being an OSU graduate, he was a lifelong fan. He only despaired about my lack of interest in the Buckeyes, or any football games. He would often say:
"I don't know where your Mother and I went wrong."
I am the oldest of us three "kids" and have many good memories. As well, I have an insider's view of his entire life, having been Dad's editor when he decided to write and publish his autobiography in 2020.
This saying rings true, and makes us glad Dad wrote about himself.
When you're young, your grandparents try to tell you their history, and you don't care because it doesn't interest you at the time. Later on, you wish you'd written down what they said.
I wrote Dad's obituary.
After many months of declining health, and him knowing his physical body was failing him (his mind never failed), I am grateful Dad is at peace now.
"Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest," said Jesus. "... and you will find rest for your souls." Matthew 11:28-29
I am also imagining the reunion between Dad and Mother, who passed away 23 years ago. Maybe Mother is saying, "I've been waiting for you. What took you so long?!"
Still, losing him is painful.
Linda
