Today was Dick's memorial service. His life ended quietly a few days after my last post. He wished to be at home and his wife cared for him in a personal act of love that chokes me up even as I type this. It was very hard on her and she didn't blink once.
I was fortunate enough to be able to visit twice a day or so those last few days to help reposition Dick so he would be comfortable and to share a few words between his increasingly frequent naps. On the day he passed, we had one final time where he and I connected and he rose from his dream like state. He was too weak to speak, but he could manage a small nod, and could squeeze my hand as I told him of my progress against the list of things I promised to take care of for him. I am so grateful we had this time.
Today was a beautiful day here in the valley, and in accordance with his wishes, his friends and family gathered at his home to celebrate each other and remember Dick.
He was quite a character, so I will share a little of his personality.
First we all new that if you baked cookies, they were not safe around Dick. He loved cookies and held the belief that the only reason you would have cookies is to share them, so he would help out any time he could.
Dick bought an airplane to cure his fear of heights (and then took flying lessons after he bought the plane). He told me that he would have quit if he had not spent the money on the plane first, and that is why he did it the way he did. He later became instrument flight rated (so you could fly in inclement weather), and true to Dick, he used the plane to get to areas that had good garage sales so he could get a great deal on second hand items. Did I mention that he was "value conscious" with his money?
Dick was generous with family and friends, but very frugal elsewhere. He called several places and negotiated a "good deal" on his own arrangements for after his death. We had to laugh at that. Of course he did.
When he graduated college (with his MS in Engineering, the MBA came later) he took a 10,000 mile bike ride around the US, camping as he went, so he could see the country.
When in college, he learned that the airlines gave discounts to priests. Since he attended a Catholic university in California, getting the Jesuit shirt and collar was not that hard. He wore it to the airport, and sure enough the airline gave him a discount. He never claimed to be a priest, and the person behind the counter asked him if he would like a discount on his ticket. He answered, "Yes, I would like a discount." and that was it. It worked out to one extra trip home from California that year.
There were several other stories of his quirky humor that came out, but the best part about him was that he was a great Father, man, and friend. I am grateful for the 17 years we had.
My thoughts for any who read this are these:
If you have someone you care about and they are dying, don't pull away. It will hurt just as bad or worse if you do pull away, but you may find some peace by slugging it out to the end with them.
My sister worked in oncology in a couple of different Hospitals and told me it was common for people to separate themselves from the dying at the end. I didn't want to be "that guy".
My sister is way too kind and empathetic to work in such an environment, yet somehow she survived. She didn't want people to be alone at the end so she "adopted" some folks (and paid the price) so they would not be lonely in their final days. She was my example.
There are many sources in print and online to help you understand the changes your sick friend's body will go through, as well as their needs mentally from family and friends to help them achieve peace before they go.
For me, knowing what physiological things would occur made it less fearful for me (even though I have seen it before, I needed to refresh my knowledge on the process). This allowed me to be at ease with those changes in his body and concentrate on his comfort and his mind.
Today was a good day.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Not Every Vista...
Not every vista taken in through life's windshield is a pleasant one. Good or bad, the vistas are part of life's mosaic, so we must embrace them and soldier on as best we can.
This story is not my story, and yet at the same time, in a way it is. This story is about my friend Dick (I can never think of him as Richard).
Dick and I met when our daughters became friends in pre-school. Over the years, our families have intertwined and he (and his family) have been at virtually all of our family birthdays and events as part of the family. It has gotten to the point we don't really invite each other any more, we just publish the days that birthdays and such are going to be celebrated and we all show up at the right place and time.
A little over three years ago, Dick told me he had prostate cancer, and that it was caught late. It didn't sound good. Stage 3 or 4. They operated, and did some treatments and a miracle occurred. Dick's cancer went into remission. About 6 months ago, it came back. This time it will not be rebuked or defeated. The decline in the last few weeks has been rapid and startling, even when you know what to expect.
Four weeks ago, I received a phone call at 5:45 AM from Dick's wife. His health had taken a plunge overnight and he needed help to get to the car to go to the hospital. It looked grim, but he bounced back, somewhat.
With all the kids either in college or college graduates, they had been wanting to downsize for some time. They had been preparing the farm for sale when his health started to go bad. The property was to be listed the week of the phone call, but that got put off.
Dick has been fretting about his family (what true man wouldn't) and all that needs to be done so they can move and get on with things. He is brave beyond all measure, something I doubt I have within myself. His friends have answered the call of course, and that has brought him some comfort.
When Dick bought the land to build the family home on, he first built a barn, and made the hay loft into an apartment for his family to live in while the house was built. Over the years he has let people in need live there, sometimes for free, sometimes for a small rent. A divorce, job loss, a family that had medical bills from an extensive illness, whatever the reason, Dick thought, why not?
The last people in there a few years ago tore the place up in the guise of (unauthorized) home improvement, and then moved out with the place unlivable (and downright dangerous). This sort of discouraged Dick, and with three in college there was not really the spare money to repair it at that time. Nevertheless, this was something Dick wanted done so two of us have been working on it for him.
Here is what two people, with 9 hours on a Sunday can do as far as putting in an inexpensive kitchen:
Of course, we spent a couple of hours with Dick throughout the day and brought him progress pictures as he was not strong enough to get out of bed Sunday. The sharp eyed among you will notice that the sink is not installed yet, but we felt pretty good about our progress. Dick was very happy to see the pictures of the apartment getting put back to right.
At the end of the day we sat for another half hour or so reminiscing about things we had done together over the years, from parties, to the dozens of camp trips with our boys for Scouting, and things of the like. He had perfect recall, and unfortunately that included recall of a few pranks at his expense. As Dick tired and drifted off to sleep, we took our leave.
Dick woke with a smile Monday and felt better. He got out of bed and made it to his downstairs office. Unfortunately his disease is robbing him of oxygen by killing his red blood cells so he tires easily. He does not want to go back to his bedroom so we have fixed a bed for him by his office. By Monday night, Dick's clear mind from 24 hours ago had become hazy and confused, a place where it still is. His brain cannot get enough oxygen now. I don't think my friend has much longer on this earth.
We can't do anything about his medical state. What we, his friends and extended family, can do is make sure he knows his family will be looked after as best as can be. We have taken up his list and will finish it for him and he knows that and was able to express his thanks for Sunday.
You really only get a handful of extraordinary friends in a lifetime; It is quite painful to let one of them go.
This story is not my story, and yet at the same time, in a way it is. This story is about my friend Dick (I can never think of him as Richard).
Dick and I met when our daughters became friends in pre-school. Over the years, our families have intertwined and he (and his family) have been at virtually all of our family birthdays and events as part of the family. It has gotten to the point we don't really invite each other any more, we just publish the days that birthdays and such are going to be celebrated and we all show up at the right place and time.
A little over three years ago, Dick told me he had prostate cancer, and that it was caught late. It didn't sound good. Stage 3 or 4. They operated, and did some treatments and a miracle occurred. Dick's cancer went into remission. About 6 months ago, it came back. This time it will not be rebuked or defeated. The decline in the last few weeks has been rapid and startling, even when you know what to expect.
Four weeks ago, I received a phone call at 5:45 AM from Dick's wife. His health had taken a plunge overnight and he needed help to get to the car to go to the hospital. It looked grim, but he bounced back, somewhat.
With all the kids either in college or college graduates, they had been wanting to downsize for some time. They had been preparing the farm for sale when his health started to go bad. The property was to be listed the week of the phone call, but that got put off.
Dick has been fretting about his family (what true man wouldn't) and all that needs to be done so they can move and get on with things. He is brave beyond all measure, something I doubt I have within myself. His friends have answered the call of course, and that has brought him some comfort.
When Dick bought the land to build the family home on, he first built a barn, and made the hay loft into an apartment for his family to live in while the house was built. Over the years he has let people in need live there, sometimes for free, sometimes for a small rent. A divorce, job loss, a family that had medical bills from an extensive illness, whatever the reason, Dick thought, why not?
The last people in there a few years ago tore the place up in the guise of (unauthorized) home improvement, and then moved out with the place unlivable (and downright dangerous). This sort of discouraged Dick, and with three in college there was not really the spare money to repair it at that time. Nevertheless, this was something Dick wanted done so two of us have been working on it for him.
Here is what two people, with 9 hours on a Sunday can do as far as putting in an inexpensive kitchen:
Of course, we spent a couple of hours with Dick throughout the day and brought him progress pictures as he was not strong enough to get out of bed Sunday. The sharp eyed among you will notice that the sink is not installed yet, but we felt pretty good about our progress. Dick was very happy to see the pictures of the apartment getting put back to right.
At the end of the day we sat for another half hour or so reminiscing about things we had done together over the years, from parties, to the dozens of camp trips with our boys for Scouting, and things of the like. He had perfect recall, and unfortunately that included recall of a few pranks at his expense. As Dick tired and drifted off to sleep, we took our leave.
Dick woke with a smile Monday and felt better. He got out of bed and made it to his downstairs office. Unfortunately his disease is robbing him of oxygen by killing his red blood cells so he tires easily. He does not want to go back to his bedroom so we have fixed a bed for him by his office. By Monday night, Dick's clear mind from 24 hours ago had become hazy and confused, a place where it still is. His brain cannot get enough oxygen now. I don't think my friend has much longer on this earth.
We can't do anything about his medical state. What we, his friends and extended family, can do is make sure he knows his family will be looked after as best as can be. We have taken up his list and will finish it for him and he knows that and was able to express his thanks for Sunday.
You really only get a handful of extraordinary friends in a lifetime; It is quite painful to let one of them go.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)