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Sunday, April 19, 2015

"I Laaaaa" Are Some Of The Most Special Words My Heart Will Always Cherrish

"I Laaaaaa" Are Some Of The Most Special Words My Heart Will Always Cherrish

Here I sit at my Dad's deathbed in the middle of the night listening to him snore. He is on the same wing as I was when I was here over a week ago. His nurse reconizes me, she is very kind and compasionate.

I am the youngest child of 8. My dad is old enough to be my grandfather. He and I have been close and we are a lot alike. We both love Jesus and His animals and all His creation. I have many good memories with him as do other family members. He is the type of guy whom is mellow, quiet and calm but with a since oh humor.

 He was a champion boxer in the early 1950s both before and during his life as a soldier in the Korean War. He never lost a fight although he did not win one of those fights. No one could equal my dad's boxing skills but one man. Him and that man went round after round neither one giving up. Finally after a long battle the fight was ended and both my Dad and the other man were declared as both being winners as it was a tie. 

All throughout Dad's life he has been a fighter but this time his battels were outside the ring. Losing his parents were his biggest battle, then in 2001 he lost his beloved and very devoted faithful friend which was a black and white dog named Jiggs. I did not see my Dad cry at his mother's funeral (his dad died before I was born). I suppose that is because she was elderly and ready to go be with Jesus. But when Jiggs died he cried. Him and I were with Jiggs when that very special canine took his last breath. My dad cried and said "I just lost my best friend" 

I am and always have been a daddy's girl. Growing up I knew no other man was as strong or special as my Dad. I was right. I was the unexpected suprise baby. They didn't think they would have anymore  children. Well they were wrong because me, number 8, was made and now here I am the youngest child only a few years older then his grandchildren. 

Beings that my siblings were so much older then me my dad would take his older grand kids with us camping so I would have playmates. We all spent countless hours in the water as we camped. Dad was a very good swimmer and diver back in the day. His fancy summer salts and dives off of the diving board would cause people to gather on the beach to watch. I beamed as I heard them say things like "look at that man dive, it's encreditable!" He was showing up the young punks big time. His 40 and 50ish year old body was no match for those young men for Dad was unstoppable. Despite his age he used a push mower and split wood with just an axe.

At the age of 66 he took a sudden unexpected turn for the worse. That is when his Parkinson's disease was found. That was a differant kind of blow to the head then what he was used to in the boxing ring. Finally and sadly the very strong fighter was entering the ring for another long battle but this time it was the battle that would make him loose. As the years went on he lost more strength and control. At the age of 81 we had to put him in a nursing home because his Parkinson's was getting so bad that he fell a lot and could not walk anymore. My mom nor I was able to pick him up off the ground anymore because now he was no longer able to help us. 

It is never an easy thing to put a parent in a nursing home. It comes with an intense emotional wave of grief and uncertainty. But my aging mother could no longer care for his physical needs and either was I due to my children having been young and due to my serious health issues. So with sad hearts and pangs of guilt we put him in a nursing home. Thankfully the nursing home was a good fit for him. The staff has been good to him these past 3 years.

We haved watched the evil touch of Parkinsions disease steal one thing after another from the boxing champ as one by one issues with bowel, bladder, drooling, swallowing, eating, walking, moving, sleeping and some confusion all set in taking over. 

Now as my 84 year old dad is taking what is likely to be his last nights breaths I sit alone by his side comforted by the sound of his breathing. 

Earlier in the day he stopped breathing for about a minute. There was no heart beat. I put my hand on his chest and bent to his ear to say "Dad it's ok to go be with Jesus now" He suddenly began breathing again. I have painstakingly notice his breathing get labored and slow. He kept moaning and scrunching his face up. I knew that meant that he was in pain, he was jerking and twitching a lot which also means he was agitated. So I asked the nurse for him to have more morphene and some of the anxiety medication the doctor ordered and for him to be moved to his other side. Dad has not been able to talk all day. His eyes have had the death glaze all day but he can still hear us. As soon as the nurse put the morphine and anxiety meds in his IV and got him rolled over he quickly feel into a peaceful sleep with no more pain or jerking. Now he lays here snoring and most likely dreaming like he always does.

27 relatives have been here to see him and some call to check on him.  He is much loved by his 8 kids and 15 grand kids and 16 great grand kids. 

It's been a busy day with loads of much needed visitors. Now here we are alone together in this dark peaceful room as the sound of his breathing comforts me. Once again I bent down to his ear to tell him that I love him. I will always hold dear to my heart the "I laaaa" he said as he tried to say " I love you"

The Hurry And Wait Game With The 3 W'3

My Dad and I.
We are tired but still the 3Ws hover over us. Watching. Waiting. Wondering.

Is his chest gonna rise again?
Is this his last breath?
When will his last breath be?
I wonder if he hears just some or most of what we say?

It is waiting game. A cruel game. But one we can't avoid.

So, here we sit. 
My Mom napping in her wheelchair beside my Dad.



Stepping Into Heaven

So, to live is to die and to die is to live. That about sums it up. From the moment we are conceived our body begins aging non stop. Then we die. Well our body dies anyways but not our souls and spirits where our memories, thoughts and feelings are.
So to die on earth just means our bodies are gone but our spirits/souls live on, but where? Where do our spirits/souls go to live? It most certainly ain't at Walmart or on our cell phones where we put so much value in material things. So once again I ask where do our souls/spirits go when our body dies?
Well that is simple.
What?! You don't think it is simple?
Well I suppose it isn't easy for some by their own choice because they wanna tack all sorts of rules and regulations onto saying absurd things like "well, she is going to Heaven because she did.............." Or " one time he said.........."
Well big deal get over what others say and do and just worry about yourself and stop pointing that finger of blame.
So, is it easy to know where our souls/spirits will be when our bodies give out?
Well duh, Heaven or hell that's where.
What's that? You say that Heaven and hell is an old uneducated old concept? Well then by all means go ahead and feel that way. After all it's your soul and spirit so just let it go and see what happens. Good luck with all that.
Anyways the simple answer to the question of how we get to Heaven is Jesus. So what do we do with Jesus in order to get to Heaven?
Do we live with all sorts of rules like how we should dress, what music do we listen to, what holiday do we part take in................the list goes on.........................and on...............and on. And it's all a bunch of man made rules not Jesus's rules. It's all crap. If you enjoy crap then live like crap.
But what if your crap is wrong? Or what if your scientific believes are wrong?
You have the right to be wrong.
And I have the right to choose where I want my soul/spirit to be and it ain't in hell that's for sure. I'm not into that, suffering is not my idea of joy and fun. Is it yours?
Do you like living life with little hope and loads of guilt? It seems like lots of people like living that way since so many choose to. Well I don't wanna.
So, I grabbed my one way free ticket to Heaven and I ain't letting go! My Ticket doesn't have a departure time on it so I'm not sure when I will go. But when I do go I'm gone and outta here!
WooooHoooooo!
Since Sunday my Dad has been standing in between the two worlds of life on earth living in a body and life living in just our spirits. Soon he will leave his body and take off for his Home. He made his choice many decades ago and he ain't letting go of that beloved Ticket we call Jesus. Is her perfect and has he made all good choices? Nope. And either have you or me but so what because our Ticket never expires.
I sit here by my Dad's deathbed comforted by his breathing. I stayed awake for 38 hours until I started turning forgetful and wore out. Then I slept well, so well at a near by hotel. While at the hotel I could still hear my Dad's breathing all night. I normally tend to "see" special things like that but this time I am hearing the special things even when I'm not at the location of the origin of the sound.
I'm glad.
I love my Dad.
I'm not abandoning him.
I shower, use the bathroom and last night I got to sleep, but other then that I'm not casting him aside.
He is my Dad.
He is stepping into Heaven.

Cultural Respect For The Dying and Deceased Along With The Family Members

After the death of a close loved one I assume it is normal to miss them for the rest of our lives but nevertheless life goes on and we function. But during the process of dying and the beginning grieving period after death it seems to me like it would be disrespectful to both the dying and deceased family member along with their loved ones for someone to purposely and knowingly drum up drama.


I dont know what kind of karma befalls someone who uses an elders dying process and death as a way to purposely drum up yet more drama and trouble with the deceased's family members but I assume it isn't good.


No human is perfect and that includes my recently deceased father. But even though my Dad wasn't perfect he was good and loved his children. Throughout my pre-teen years my Dad would say prayers and blessings over me as I slept. One time I just happened to wake up when he was praying. I held real still pretending to still be asleep. I heard him naming off his children, my mom, his mother, grandchildren, other family members and others,but he especially named off and prayed for his children as he whispered prayers to The Creator God.
I remember laying there feeling so very loved and cherished to be special enough to have a prayer worrior Daddy interceding for me and my siblings.
His prayers were powerful enough when he was alive but now that he is in Heaven and in the presence of God his interceding's for me (and other family members) are very powerful and being heard well.
By the time Dad was born many Native Americans had been abandoning their traditions in order to live the white way in hopes that they and their children would not be hounded and horribly treated. So as a result my Dad's childhood was not full of native traditions but it still had some and was incorporated in with the white culture. Plus his mother was white.
His Dad's side was Cherokee. The Cherokee have been known over the centuries to be one of the more spiritual tribes. Strangely many of the old Cherokee traditions and stories were similar to that of the Jewish culture. There is supposed to be a genetic link between the Cherokees and Jews.
In both the Cherokee and Jewish cultures it was (and still is in some areas) common for the older folks to be revered and treated with respect both before and after death. To purposely and mannishly make trouble during their dying process and during the grieving process for the family of the departed loved one is probably not a good thing in the eyes of the Lord. It does not matter how guilty or innocent the family and its members may or may not be, it still is not a good idea to cause issues.
It was bad enough that in December 2013 someone heartlessly called my ailing Dad and said something along the lines of "your daughter ran off and died." That instantly worried my Dad and broke his heart as he cried. That was not just childish to do to him but was also extremely evil and disrespectful to do to an elder. It is demonic. It is wrong. It is hard to forgive.
May those who truly loved and respected my Dad be blessed. Selah.