Month: June 2025

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Visitation Day

Today would have been my parents’ 61st wedding anniversary, but instead we’ll be having a visitation for Dad on the eve of his funeral. Mom has been gone for 10 years, and Dad just wasn’t the same without her. She was the love of his life and the only person who has ever been able to help him manage in a way that made any sense. Small snippets of the past three weeks come rushing back, not as a movie in my head but as a bunch of jagged-edged memories without their proper place on a timeline.

I don’t even know what day it is, which way is up or down, or whether I’m hungry or cold. I’ve lost all sense of the hours, whether I’m up past my bedtime or sleeping at all. My clothes may match – or not. It’s that headspace without a comfort zone, where everything feels numb and you hold on, hoping your facial expressions are all performed appropriately at the right times when you’re among people. The feeling is gone. The grief has set in.

this is where I am:

in the midst of chaos, the

corner of nowhere

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Grief Numbness Haiku

Things are starting to hit home, ahead of the funeral on Saturday. Today was a partial reset, in between the day of Dad’s death and the day of the funeral. I feel like I’m just going through the motions on auto-pilot, and I remember this feeling after my mother died. There have been moments I’ve wanted to call and check on him. Then I realize – – I can’t do that anymore.

Today, my brother took Kona, Dad’s dog, to the funeral home to “explain things.” Kona checked him and sat down on his chest with the saddest look of understanding. We wanted her to know that he did not abandon her – – that he died loving her. She has a lovely new family now that will continue to take her to the dog park where she knows the dogs and people there – even though she will always look for the one who will not be returning. We gave her the unlaundered blanket, a gift from Hospice workers, that covered him on his ride from Hospice to the funeral home, and we pray it holds his scent for the rest of her days.

It’s all hitting so hard right now. I wasn’t expecting the numbness quite in this way. There will be some connecting with others who have lost fathers in the coming days. For today, I simply put one foot in front of the other and take breaths, pour coffee, and fold laundry. This is what I can do, and it brings a sense of accomplishment.

grief numbness sets in

after losing my father

is this happening???

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Thursday the 12th: Leading up to Friday the 13th

The last person to see our father alive who knew him was Nick Doster.

My brother Ken and I had been trying to keep vigil next to Dad’s bedside so that he didn’t die alone in a room, but the hospice nurse urged us to go take showers and grab an hour or so of sleep when we’d become too exhausted. Some patients look for those moments to die alone, preferring not to have loved ones near in their final moments, she’d assured us. We knew the time was close, too, because just that afternoon Dad had begun the conversations with the others not of this world, but with whom he was having undeterminable conversations and for whom he was reaching.

Nick Doster and Dad had traveled to Wrigley Field in Chicago to see the Cubs play several years back, and shared a deep love of all things sports. So it was no surprise that when Nick showed up in the remaining hours of Dad’s life with a red Georgia Bulldogs hat, Dad found strength for an appreciative smile.

Imagine our bittersweet sadness when the call came at 4 a.m. that Dad had passed. We felt the grief of the loss and the joy of the release of all pain and suffering from this earthly realm into the Heaven he preached about all his life. Now. Imagine us walking into that Hospice room to spend time prior to the funeral home coming for the body.

Take all the time you need, the hospice nurse offered.

Imagine us opening that wide door one last time and looking at the bed, only to see a bright yellow blanket embroidered with Psalm 119:76 in black stitching on one corner covering Dad’s body – the sunshine of Heaven. And imagine a face at total peace, no wires or tubes protruding, no oxygen machine droning, the red hat still on his head against the stark white of the pillow.

My brother and I agreed – – he wears the hat to Heaven. We know it will be the perfect complement to his black doctoral robe with the velvet on the sleeves and the red piping. Above all, we know it will bring smiles to those who will come for visitation to see that Dad, ever the champion of going as far as one can go with education and cheering as strong as one can cheer for the Georgia Bulldogs, can still cause a stirring of hearts.

Imagine the grief

Imagine the laughter

Imagine the joy

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Friday the 13th For Real

This is a time of reorienting after the loss of my father on Friday, June 13. He was diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis four years ago, and with both prostate and colon cancers in the past year. He began to suffer from SVTs, a heart arrhythmia that mimics a heart attack, because of the cardiopulmonary functions working in tandem with lack of oxygen from the lungs to the heart. In other words, the lungs weakened too much to support the heart, and with the chemo cocktail on his frailty, he didn’t have anything to fight with as he reflected on his choice.

These past three weeks have been a blur, since things took a steep nose dive the Tuesday after Memorial Day. He was transported by ambulance to the hospital, on to a rehab center, back to the hospital, back to the rehab center, and back to the hospital and then a hospice facility. He never returned home, his beloved dog Kona left there to wonder what happened to him. Within hours of his first ambulance ride, one of his many dog park friends came to get Kona and will keep her as her own, assuring both Dad and us that as long as she has Kona, she will have a part of Dad; we’ve arranged for Kona to see his body at the funeral home so that she understands he did not abandon her by choice. The blanket provided by hospice covering Dad during his ride to the funeral home was not laundered at my brother’s and my request – – this will be a gift for Kona. We hope it holds Dad’s scent for her forever.

These weeks have been filled with frustration, sorrow, laughter, denial, peace, acceptance, silence, noise, unforgettable moments, and hundreds of friends and family reaching out from across the miles to get the daily update and express their condolences. His grandchildren and great grandchildren who had traveled from as far away as Nevada to say goodbye arrived in intervals on Friday, just a few hours too late – – but we know Dad left on his own terms, and we believe he did so to keep their memories of him as they knew him in healthier days. Sunday was our first Father’s Day without our patriarch.

And now, our father – pastor, friend, brother, and legend – has reunited with our mother in heaven. We celebrate them and know they are at peace, and we lay him to rest on Saturday in Christ Church Cemetery on St. Simons Island right next to her, where she has been waiting since December 2015. So many stories have been lived and shared over these past few weeks, and there will be so many more as we navigate the days ahead – – stories and events that Dad continually referred to as the serendipitous steering currents of the spirit. His service will be live streamed on St. Simons Island First Baptist Church Youtube channel at 1:00 Saturday, June 21 for any of his friends who are reading and would like to attend virtually.

serendipitous

steering currents, Dad reminds,

are of the spirit

We anticipate and welcome these moments, and we’re on the lookout for every sign and every miracle that we know will be divinely channeled our way from Heaven.

Goodbye, Dad. Until we meet again.

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June Night Walk Haiku

Better Shows

after these night walks

seeing a toad eat a worm

and low-flying planes

we wonder just what

better shows we’re missing while

we’re watching TV

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Northern Mockingbird AI: A Demi Sonnet

Northern Mockingbird – the bird world’s AI

heralds false hope in a song of disguise

from brown-headed cowbirds to cardinals

from tip tops of branches he boasts fake news

he calls a long list; you know it’s a ruse

some folks believe what most could never buy

that’s not a bald eagle soaring the skies!

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Make No Mistake: A Demi Sonnet

make no mistake about it as you look

it’s not because she covered herself up

nor that she was the prettiest of all

her mental illness drove them to decide

to pay for extra pictures on the side

those prom night pages in her old yearbook

backfired and fed a monster princess crook