and I can't truly grasp it. I still think that I can push #4 on my cell phone and he will answer. That when I get a flat on the side of the road or can't start my car, he will come to the rescue. Unfortunately, this will no longer be the case.
When I got to the hospital with my mother this morning, the doctors told her that dad's breathing was indicative of someone who had only hours to live. This turned out to be the case. We all sat around talking and telling stories on each other and him laughing and crying all the way.
We were fortunate to have our pastor there when he passed. I saw it happen first and said something and my mom's best friend said, "He's gone." It was the strangest thing. You would think that it would be more...I don't know...more something. (Gee, has anyone who knows me ever seen me at a loss for words?) But then it was just over. The pastor began to read some scripture when we realized that one of the aunts was out of the room with my daughter. I, being a person who doesn't handle strong emotions well, volunteered to go find her and went downstairs with mom's friend. Said friend went into the dining hall and told my aunt and sat with my daughter while I gathered my self together. Then came the time I had to tell my daughter that her Papa was gone.
I just sat there watching her eat her pizza and listened to her go on about how great it was and how the crust tasted like French bread...It was so interesting. When she was done, we went for a walk out to the garden and sat down. Explaining things like death are hard for any person at any age, but my daughter has Asperger's and many times has a hard time understanding certain concepts. After a brief talk, however, she was able to tell me that her Papa had died. The rest of the afternoon she spent folding origami and eating snacks that her aunts and uncles would buy her from the vending machine. For my girl, life would go on at least for now. I know that reality will set in when she goes to my mother's and sees Papa's chair empty. Now all that is left is to explain to my three year old that his Papa whom he knew was very sick will never be coming home. We will see how that goes.
Thanks again for "listening." Your friendships mean so much to me.