27th November 2019
The day started good, we sold a TV cabinet first thing, then Kelli had to leave to work at the florist to deliver some pre thanksgiving bouquets.
I worked in the garage on a couple of projects until Kelli’s son Cameron turned up.
He was upset as he received news that his grandfather, who had just been transferred from the hospital to the nursing home, had taken a turn for the worst.
He stayed whilst Kelli drove from Saugatuck back home.
There are many ways that people deal with the dying. Some want to be at the bedside at all times, others want to remember the person as they always have, in the best light.
Kelli didn’t know what she wanted to do.
We went out to get some bits for the shed door and some wine for thanksgiving.
Once we returned, Kelli received the news she was dreading.
We arrived at the nursing home, all the family were there, the grief hung thickly over poor Dave like a winter cloud. This was very appropriate as there were high winds howling around the window frame.
At last his suffering was over, he lay peaceful.
Later in the evening, when we settled back, Kelli sat and wrote this Facebook post.
It sums up the father daughter relationship in a way I couldn’t better.
“I’m not sure why I am posting this on social media, other than the fact that I had the best dad a girl could ever ask for, and I lost him tonight. He was always a big teddy bear, one that spoke softly but carried a big stick. His sense of humor was drier than the Sahara desert, and he always gave good honest advice. The most important thing I learned from him was this: it’s better to err on the side of mercy than to do nothing. I know he’s in a better place now and he has slain the demons that I know he wrestled with mentally, but this is something I wasn’t ready for at only 49. I saw him Sunday night when he was still sort of alert, but not really talking much. I held his hand, which felt so tiny in mine, and told him I loved him. He whispered back “I love you too.” I always knew how much he loved me, but he rarely told me, so that is a memory I will cherish forever. Fly free, dad. I hope to see you again. Who knows… maybe I’ll find your spirit again in my lifetime. I love you so much.”
Another Lifetime to go 