Not the Way I Expected....
My days start about 6 A.M. I boot up the work computer and work until the boys wake up and after getting them dressed and fed, I continue working until 8, when I take them to summer camp and day care and come back to the house to continue the work day. That's the routine.
...which was interrupted this morning by my cell phone ringing at 7:20. I knew instinctively what that meant. There could be only one reason I was getting a call this early today. My Dad was dying, and I was needed right away.
My instincts were 2/3 right: Dad was hours from going to Heaven. I was needed, but not before 9 A.M. This allowed me to wrap up the work project I was in the middle of and then let the boys think it was a normal day by taking them to school. I was the last of the children to arrive. Cheri, Kevin, Ann, and Sylvia were out in the garden while the hospice nurses tried to slow down Dad's breathing and bring his blood pressure down.
After they accomplished these tasks, we gathered around his hospital bed and let him know we loved him. I knew that Dad and Ellen loved each other deeply, but if I needed any evidence, what I heard her whisper to Dad in those final moments said it all: she remembered their first kiss, various good times, and vowed to love his children as her own, his mother as her own, and to dance at the grand-children's weddings.
As if on-queue, Dad's breathing slowed, and periods between breaths become longer and longer, and then he was gone.
There were tears after that. The hospice nurses were incredible in both their sympathy and their professionalism. About an hour later the cremation firm arrived to take charge of Dad's remains, and a final goodbye was said. I asked Dad to hug Benjamin for me and tell him I'd be there as soon as I could. 30 minutes after that, the hospital room that I had entered was once again Dad's....no....Ellen's living room with no sign of what had just taken place over the last few weeks. Ellen whispered to me that I was now the man of the family.
For the first time in years, all of us were in the same room at the same time. Ellen told us that she and Dad had been able to sock money away over the years, and that she was well prepared for. The house, which had been gutted and rebuilt after black mold was discovered a few years ago that required a new mortgage, was paid in full. All of their bills were paid in full, and they were debt free. There would be a share of a life insurance policy bequeathed to all of us per his instructions. We all expressed concern for Grandmother Mickey in Fort Worth. She has now outlived all of her children. It was pure unadulterated Hell to bury a stillborn Benjamin. I can't begin to imagine what outliving a baby and then 3 grown sons was like. Grandmother's pastor was called and went at once to give her the news when we couldn't reach her (it was her normal beauty appointment day. She explained to all of us later that she had cried all of last night, and that life had to go on today.).
We talked for a while, and then Sivi went back to her office to prepare for case-conference with her nurses tomorrow morning. Ellen and my sisters went to the cremation office to sign the paperwork and take care of those details. That left Kevin and I in the empty house. For those of you who called, text-ed or sent other support messages, I am very grateful. We were made to feel loved today.
Funeral arrangements are still pending, as Dad's ashes will not be returned to us until sometime next week. There will be a remembrance/celebration here in Dallas for friends and business associates. The interment will be at the Balthrop family plot at Mount Olivet in Fort Worth. Dad's wishes have always been to be cremated and to be buried in the grave that my baby Aunt Vickie and my beloved son Benjamin are in. I declined to have Vickie's marker removed and changed when Benjamin died because Grandmother Mickey insisted on paying for his interment, and it didn't seem right to me to remove the marker she had placed there for Vickie. Ellen knew this and my reasons for not doing so. "Now," she said today, the most practical person in the family as ever, "We'll have a new marker for Vicki, Benjamin, and your Dad."
It was not the way I expected his death to be. There was calmness and love, not panic and fear as with my Mom. It seemed to be the right way to go.
I was proud to be named after Chris Alan Balthrop, Sr. The patents on the walls of his office belong to a system of bar code readers developed by E-Systems that was the predecessor of the bar codes on everything you buy nowadays. Really. My Dad is indirectly responsible for the basis of all of modern retail shopping.
I love you Dad. Hug Benjamin for me and read him a story, tonight, would you? I'll be there as soon as I can.
...which was interrupted this morning by my cell phone ringing at 7:20. I knew instinctively what that meant. There could be only one reason I was getting a call this early today. My Dad was dying, and I was needed right away.
My instincts were 2/3 right: Dad was hours from going to Heaven. I was needed, but not before 9 A.M. This allowed me to wrap up the work project I was in the middle of and then let the boys think it was a normal day by taking them to school. I was the last of the children to arrive. Cheri, Kevin, Ann, and Sylvia were out in the garden while the hospice nurses tried to slow down Dad's breathing and bring his blood pressure down.
After they accomplished these tasks, we gathered around his hospital bed and let him know we loved him. I knew that Dad and Ellen loved each other deeply, but if I needed any evidence, what I heard her whisper to Dad in those final moments said it all: she remembered their first kiss, various good times, and vowed to love his children as her own, his mother as her own, and to dance at the grand-children's weddings.
As if on-queue, Dad's breathing slowed, and periods between breaths become longer and longer, and then he was gone.
There were tears after that. The hospice nurses were incredible in both their sympathy and their professionalism. About an hour later the cremation firm arrived to take charge of Dad's remains, and a final goodbye was said. I asked Dad to hug Benjamin for me and tell him I'd be there as soon as I could. 30 minutes after that, the hospital room that I had entered was once again Dad's....no....Ellen's living room with no sign of what had just taken place over the last few weeks. Ellen whispered to me that I was now the man of the family.
For the first time in years, all of us were in the same room at the same time. Ellen told us that she and Dad had been able to sock money away over the years, and that she was well prepared for. The house, which had been gutted and rebuilt after black mold was discovered a few years ago that required a new mortgage, was paid in full. All of their bills were paid in full, and they were debt free. There would be a share of a life insurance policy bequeathed to all of us per his instructions. We all expressed concern for Grandmother Mickey in Fort Worth. She has now outlived all of her children. It was pure unadulterated Hell to bury a stillborn Benjamin. I can't begin to imagine what outliving a baby and then 3 grown sons was like. Grandmother's pastor was called and went at once to give her the news when we couldn't reach her (it was her normal beauty appointment day. She explained to all of us later that she had cried all of last night, and that life had to go on today.).
We talked for a while, and then Sivi went back to her office to prepare for case-conference with her nurses tomorrow morning. Ellen and my sisters went to the cremation office to sign the paperwork and take care of those details. That left Kevin and I in the empty house. For those of you who called, text-ed or sent other support messages, I am very grateful. We were made to feel loved today.
Funeral arrangements are still pending, as Dad's ashes will not be returned to us until sometime next week. There will be a remembrance/celebration here in Dallas for friends and business associates. The interment will be at the Balthrop family plot at Mount Olivet in Fort Worth. Dad's wishes have always been to be cremated and to be buried in the grave that my baby Aunt Vickie and my beloved son Benjamin are in. I declined to have Vickie's marker removed and changed when Benjamin died because Grandmother Mickey insisted on paying for his interment, and it didn't seem right to me to remove the marker she had placed there for Vickie. Ellen knew this and my reasons for not doing so. "Now," she said today, the most practical person in the family as ever, "We'll have a new marker for Vicki, Benjamin, and your Dad."
It was not the way I expected his death to be. There was calmness and love, not panic and fear as with my Mom. It seemed to be the right way to go.
I was proud to be named after Chris Alan Balthrop, Sr. The patents on the walls of his office belong to a system of bar code readers developed by E-Systems that was the predecessor of the bar codes on everything you buy nowadays. Really. My Dad is indirectly responsible for the basis of all of modern retail shopping.
I love you Dad. Hug Benjamin for me and read him a story, tonight, would you? I'll be there as soon as I can.