Y'all:
I have a life story I'd like to share with you, but before I go any further let's be respectful with our replies and comments. Thanks.
My mother passed away in 2010. My parents had been married 59 years at the time of her passing. My father passed in 2012.
My father lived on his own afterwards in the home they bought in 1959. Sue and I live about 360 miles away from him (round trip) so it was impossible to make daily or weekly checks on him. And my father, as supremely intelligent as he was, was computer illiterate and deaf (late in life) which made conversation with him difficult.
Dad was always an independent guy, but when we visited and found the kitchen sink running or one of the stove top burners glowing orange hot - while he was in bed taking a midday nap - we decided to have him move in with us. We set up a nice living space for him in our spare bedroom.
Long story short, my father had a sales career that required him to wear the finest suits, drive the nicest cars (including a Tri-Power 1965 Pontiac Grand Prix back in the day). Also too, he had to entertain clients with fine dinners and/or golf on the Monterey Peninsula or in San Francisco.
By now Dad was having heart problems and was on medication for it. In his final weeks that proud, handsome man was having to wear diapers. That image haunts me to this day.
One day he called Sue and me into his room and said, "I cannot tell you how much I appreciate you two caring for me like this - but this isn't living." Then he looked at Sue (who was an RN) and asked, "Susie, what can I do about this?" No sure what he was really asking, it made Sue and I pause for several seconds until she said, "Well, Jim, if you stop taking your heart meds you won't last long". To that he said, "That's exactly what I need to know. Thanks!". Six weeks later he was dead.
My Dad and Sue became very close over the years, which was quite a contrast to his feelings when he first met her. Let's just say that Sue was free spirited young woman who couldn't spell the word "bra", a contrast to my Dad's professional persona. But over the years my Dad - in fact both my parents - absolutely adored her. I'm an only child and I used to joke with them that they loved her more than they did me. My kidding was often met with an awkward silence, which suggested they did indeed loved her more than me. But no worries, I understood and I didn't blame them!
One last thing, I grew up in an agnostic family. Sue was not religious, per se, but she was very spiritual.
Given that backdrop, here is where things get.....I'm not sure how to describe it.
Dad was on Hospice care. Part of that care plan in his final days was giving him anti-anxiety drugs and morphine. In his final hours I sat in his room with him. No way was I going to let him die alone. On his final night he was unconscious and making the death sounds we were warned to prepare for.
I couldn't tolerate it any longer, and I'm sure nor could he. I was double and tripling his morphine doses in an effort to put him out of his misery. But he lived on. I sat there all night until about 5AM. Sue got up and said, "Scott, You have to be exhausted. Go to bed. Let me sit with him for awhile". I went to bed and fell asleep in seconds. Sue awakened me just 15 minutes later and told me Dad had died.
But here is the "interesting" part. Wrong word, but you'll get it if you read on.
Sue was exhausted too and dozed off minutes after taking over. Then she had this "dream". She was in a fancy hotel in San Francisco (my Dad's favorite city back in the day). She was led to this door somewhere. She knocked and when the door opened she saw my father dressed up in one of his fancy suits with a gathering of happy people socializing in the background - and my Dad was a young man!
Sue didn't understand and stammered, "Jim, I don't understand. What's going on?" To which he replied, "Susie, don't worry about me. I'm not sick anymore!". Sue awakened from this "dream", only to see my Dad take his last breath.
It is my belief that my Dad didn't want to die with me, he wanted to die with Sue. And I understand!
Perhaps more importantly, where do you think he was?
I'll let you draw your own conclusions, but please be respectful with your comments.
Scott
PS Read the obituary and look at this picture. That's our three dogs with Dad on his final day. Look at the concern on their faces. They knew this canine loving human was near the end.
https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/mercurynews/name/james-sitler-obituary?id=9982026
I have a life story I'd like to share with you, but before I go any further let's be respectful with our replies and comments. Thanks.
My mother passed away in 2010. My parents had been married 59 years at the time of her passing. My father passed in 2012.
My father lived on his own afterwards in the home they bought in 1959. Sue and I live about 360 miles away from him (round trip) so it was impossible to make daily or weekly checks on him. And my father, as supremely intelligent as he was, was computer illiterate and deaf (late in life) which made conversation with him difficult.
Dad was always an independent guy, but when we visited and found the kitchen sink running or one of the stove top burners glowing orange hot - while he was in bed taking a midday nap - we decided to have him move in with us. We set up a nice living space for him in our spare bedroom.
Long story short, my father had a sales career that required him to wear the finest suits, drive the nicest cars (including a Tri-Power 1965 Pontiac Grand Prix back in the day). Also too, he had to entertain clients with fine dinners and/or golf on the Monterey Peninsula or in San Francisco.
By now Dad was having heart problems and was on medication for it. In his final weeks that proud, handsome man was having to wear diapers. That image haunts me to this day.
One day he called Sue and me into his room and said, "I cannot tell you how much I appreciate you two caring for me like this - but this isn't living." Then he looked at Sue (who was an RN) and asked, "Susie, what can I do about this?" No sure what he was really asking, it made Sue and I pause for several seconds until she said, "Well, Jim, if you stop taking your heart meds you won't last long". To that he said, "That's exactly what I need to know. Thanks!". Six weeks later he was dead.
My Dad and Sue became very close over the years, which was quite a contrast to his feelings when he first met her. Let's just say that Sue was free spirited young woman who couldn't spell the word "bra", a contrast to my Dad's professional persona. But over the years my Dad - in fact both my parents - absolutely adored her. I'm an only child and I used to joke with them that they loved her more than they did me. My kidding was often met with an awkward silence, which suggested they did indeed loved her more than me. But no worries, I understood and I didn't blame them!
One last thing, I grew up in an agnostic family. Sue was not religious, per se, but she was very spiritual.
Given that backdrop, here is where things get.....I'm not sure how to describe it.
Dad was on Hospice care. Part of that care plan in his final days was giving him anti-anxiety drugs and morphine. In his final hours I sat in his room with him. No way was I going to let him die alone. On his final night he was unconscious and making the death sounds we were warned to prepare for.
I couldn't tolerate it any longer, and I'm sure nor could he. I was double and tripling his morphine doses in an effort to put him out of his misery. But he lived on. I sat there all night until about 5AM. Sue got up and said, "Scott, You have to be exhausted. Go to bed. Let me sit with him for awhile". I went to bed and fell asleep in seconds. Sue awakened me just 15 minutes later and told me Dad had died.
But here is the "interesting" part. Wrong word, but you'll get it if you read on.
Sue was exhausted too and dozed off minutes after taking over. Then she had this "dream". She was in a fancy hotel in San Francisco (my Dad's favorite city back in the day). She was led to this door somewhere. She knocked and when the door opened she saw my father dressed up in one of his fancy suits with a gathering of happy people socializing in the background - and my Dad was a young man!
Sue didn't understand and stammered, "Jim, I don't understand. What's going on?" To which he replied, "Susie, don't worry about me. I'm not sick anymore!". Sue awakened from this "dream", only to see my Dad take his last breath.
It is my belief that my Dad didn't want to die with me, he wanted to die with Sue. And I understand!
Perhaps more importantly, where do you think he was?
I'll let you draw your own conclusions, but please be respectful with your comments.
Scott
PS Read the obituary and look at this picture. That's our three dogs with Dad on his final day. Look at the concern on their faces. They knew this canine loving human was near the end.
https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/mercurynews/name/james-sitler-obituary?id=9982026
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