I started this story three weeks ago and, due to technical difficulties, haven't been able to finish it until now. If you haven't read the previous post, please scroll down, as this is a continuation of my dad's final days with us.
As per the previous post, my dad got checked into Baptist hospital in Lexington, on Saturday, May 21. By the time I arrived on Sunday, he was still alert and himself. The doctor informed us that his tests revealed that he apparently wasn't going to improve. After living the past year on oxygen and being very limited in his activites for more than two years, it looked like we needed to start our final farewells to our dad.
He was hooked up to all the vitals' moniters and we could keep track of his heart rate and his oxygen level. It was important to keep his heart rate down and his oxygen rate up. This was fine until Monday night when he started trying to remove his oxygen mask because he couldn't breathe. I'd struggle with him to keep it on, then the nurse would also continue to reason and work with him. This made the oxygen go down , the heart rate go up. They increased medication to calm him . This helped, but limited his being able to respond to us as he had been.
Because we had been concerned for years about his salvation, I had come prepared with my church hymnal. Daddy had taken us to church in Argenta, Illinois and then in Fort Worth, Texas. Finally, when we arrived in Paris, Kentucky, we attended a little country church because our dear friends, Walt and Catherine attended there. We are all from Argenta, originally. Daddy and Walt worked together in Illinois and our families are very close. Anyway, we attended church regularly at Herrington Methodist until sister Kathy and I decided we would prefer attending the Methodist church in town, as we went to the city school. Daddy wasn't okay with this, but he allowed us to switch, he just quit attending church altogether. As the years went by, he also began expressing doubts concerning his Christian faith.
Back to the hymnal, I remembered that the altar call each week from Reverend Marshall Crouch, at our little country church, was always to "Softly and Tenderly, Jesus Is Calling ", so when I was alone in the room with my dad, I sat down next to him and sang each of the four verses softly into his ear. I figured if anything would stir his faith, that pleading hymn would. I believe that it was about Tuesday when they decided to turn off the monitors that told us what the oxygen and heart rates were, even though the nurses knew them at the desk.
When Daddy's medication would wear off, he would again begin to struggle and at one time, they called in a code, asking for help. This was upsetting all the way around, as many nurses and orderlies came in to restrain him from struggling with them. But, suddenly, in the midst of this awful moment, he said I'm trying to get to Heaven and you all won't let me." Of course, I grabbed his hand and said that nothing could stop him from getting to heaven, as long as he accepted Jesus Christ as his savior. That was exactly what I had been praying for, something that would assure me that my dad was again open to accepting Jesus as his savior and having faith that he could go to heaven, even though he didn't understand it all.
This has been my story of my dad's final days. He passed away, peacefully, Wednesday, May 25th. My mom was right there with him. He had an amazing 90 years of life. He enjoyed 69 years and four months of marriage with his wife, Betty Ann. I personally, had the best Daddy for sixty years, my sisters had him a little longer. My mom, we three daughters, his sons- in-law and his grandchildren have so many wonderful memories. We all miss him so very much, but thanks to His wonderful grace on us all, we know that we will see him again in Heaven. For that, I will be eternally grateful.
Have a great day, stay warm and stay safe. If you're interested in the four verses of "Softly and Tenderly, Jesus Is Calling", just let me know and I'll post them. luv, Susan
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