I started thinking about that years ago, the how, the way, the when, what it might be like during and after, etc. Were we doing the things we needed to do to help Dad to the finish line? Had Dad taken care of the spiritual, physical, and financial matters that should be handled early on as a good steward? At the end of his life down here, nothing happened as I had imagined, not the how, not the when, not the where, not the ease with which he would make his trip home. The "how" was by way of sleep and fatigue, not illness or organ failure. The "when" came a year or more early based on the natural decline of a dementia patient, barring an intervening medical calamity. The "where" was home, and Dad wanted that more than anything, but I had begun to have my doubts that we would make it. The "ease" was just that, no pain, no sickness, no distress, no struggle. I've never witnessed a homegoing so pleasant and peaceful.
When the Lord came, we cried, we grieved, we hurt, but we also prayed, celebrated, gave thanks, and received our extended family and friends to share in our joys and sorrows. In the weeks thereafter, I have reminisced alot about Daddy with family and friends, and even though I have always loved and appreciated him, I have raised my opinion of him even more. It helps to be quiet and think through the facts of a situation or person and then draw better informed conclusions. He trusted the Lord (most important of all). He attempted one of the most sacrificial, redemptive works I have ever known. He gave away, spent, or otherwise disposed of just about every material asset he had in the last 10 years of his life. He was a good steward. He left instructions for his final days (what a huge relief for us!). He left us with no doubt about his wishes for a simple memorial and burial. He left instructions for a few last material possessions that remained after his passing.
As for the three of us, we did our best, based on what we thought was right at the time, always willing to learn and make adjustments along the way when we realized that what we were doing needed to be tweaked. We did not force Daddy to conform to us. We allowed Dad to be Dad, and adapted as appropriate. It was not easy at all. And at the end, death never is. It hurts. It reminds us that we were never meant for a grave and a tombstone. That's why the gospel of Christ is such good news.
Dad's age and health situation was very different from Mama's cancer illness and passing 23 years ago, but God was very good to him and to us. Dad was blessed, and so were we.
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