Jan. 14th, 2006 11:50 pm
lurkitty: (Default)
I realized that I hadn't shared this with you. Dad's obit was written by my mom and is better than anything I could have done myself.

The funeral was attended by 200+ people, family, friends, former coworkers. The first speaker was state Sen. Jackie Winters, David's old friend, who gave a tremendously warm and personal tribute. When my little sister gave her speech about what her daddy taught her, there was not a dry eye in the house. She talked about how he tried to teach her to play poker. She realized he wasn't teaching her to gamble, rather he was teaching her that there are times that you said what was on your mind, and times you kept your thoughts to yourself, and other wise lessons.

One of the highlights was when my mother got up and introduced a special song. When Dad thought he was dying months ago, he called for mom and wanted to borrow her cell phone. He called his sister and started singing a song and wanted her to help him recall it. It was a song their mother sang to them. Mom took the few words they had and Googled and came up with a hit -- "Will the Angels Let Me Play?" The song was written in 1905. She then told the story about how, when David was a boy, there were few places a little black boy could play. Later on, his high school baseball team won the pennant. The reward was to go to Jantzen beach, a local amusement park. They played on all the equipment and then were going to swim in the pool (Jantzen -- famous for swimwear). They wouldn't allow blacks in the pool. The whole team refused to swim if David couldn't swim. So then, Marilyn Keller, the soloist, sang "when I get to heaven will the Angels let me play/ because I am to little will they think I'm in the way..." . Wow.

We adjorned to mom's house, where there was way too much food and too many people. I am now exhausted and in need of alone time. I smell of about a dozen kinds of perfume from all the hugs I got. I did get to catch up with people I haven't seen in decades.

My part? My mom chose me to chauffeur her to and from the funeral home because she knew I would be calm and collected. I didn't disappoint.
lurkitty: (Default)
Dad is resting comfortably. Vonda, a hospice worker, was just here and gave him a bath. She is so gentle with him. She cut the back of a T-shirt in half so that we don't have to lift him to change it, and so it doesn't bunch up while he's lying in bed. His breathing is quite shallow. He rouses every few hours and is lucid.

I stayed over last night and called in to work this morning. I got up and made breakfast. We had quite a time convincing Mom it was okay to go to her acupuncture/massage appointment this morning. I was really glad I stayed, because I could help strongarm her into going. She really needs it.

So often, dying people will pass on only when a certain person is away. I'm sure that is on Mom's mind, and it is on ours, too. But, at this point, it seems to support her going more than not.

So, we wait, grateful for the time we have had, hoping that he will go quietly.

Meanwhile, we are trading cat stories *smile* Got any good ones?
lurkitty: (Default)
Talked to Mom tonight. Found out that Dad has not only not been eating, he has not been drinking anything other than a few ice cubes for two days. He is still lucid, but says little. My oldest sister is there with my Mom, they are pretty much giving him 24 hour care.

The Hospice staff is utterly amazed that he has lasted this long. They expected he would not make it beyond a week when he came home around Thanksgiving. I personally suspect he did not want anyone to associate his death with Christmas, especially his beloved grandchildren. That is the sort of thing he would do.

I plan to visit tomorrow night. My little sister and oldest nephew are coming over from Bend tomorrow, too, though I may be too late to see them. I carry my phone with me constantly now, and have my kit with my feather fan and smudge in the car just in case I am somewhere can't stop at my house before going to Mom's.

I'll let you know what happens.


lurkitty: (Default)

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