Prior to this morning I had been unwilling to pull out my Nikon. As you've seen, I did use my phone to sneak a few pictures here and there, but the snapping sound a "real" camera makes can be intrusive. I also had mixed emotions about capturing what I was seeing. Dad was clearly losing the appearance of the father I had always known a little every day. I want to remember him the way he always was, but I didn't want to miss a moment of his life. I took a few pictures of him after I arrived that morning. He was sleeping solidly, lightly snoring to prove it. I put my camera away and waited.
The sleepy-head I found early on Thursday morning, the last day of March 2016
Dad's ring has not been off his finger since he moment Mom put it there. It hasn't had room to move from his finger for that matter. Lately his weight-loss has made ring-removal a possibility for the first time in the last 45 years.
When he woke up I asked him if he would mind me taking pictures throughout his time in the hospital. He said "go ahead" and gave me a little grin. He was always so patient with me when it came to my love of things the camera could capture. Two years ago I had come to feed his scrawny body for a week. When he picked me up in Phoenix I showed him a few of the macro shots of flowers and bugs I had been editing. He spent the next several hours pulling over for every flowering weed and blooming cactus between Phoenix and Blue Ridge. The trip took no less than four hours...
Dad is always so patient with my camera...
After our little impromptu photo shoot, while we waited for Dad's breakfast, I told him about the conversations I had with nearly all seven of my siblings regarding is very near future. Everyone had resounded the sentiment that "Dad should have what Dad wants" at the end of his life and beyond. No one would be offended if he chose to be buried in a location that meant little to nothing to them. Because Dad had decided on Montana as "home", there were options. He had started his adventure in Montana in Libby with Mom. They started having children in the Trego/Eureka/Fortine area. Half of us were born in the Kalispell hospital. The other half of us were born during our family's time in Wisdom and Gardiner (Missoula and Livingston hospitals being represented accordingly). All of those locations held meaning for Dad, but he had owned property the Fortine area until last summer and had always hoped to retire there. Although many of my siblings had spent little or no time Northwestern Montana, everyone was willing to do what it would take to make it happen for him to be buried there.
As we talked, Dad could not stop the tears from rolling out the corner of his eyes. He had been so worried about causing problems for any of us prior to, or after, his death. He expressed relief in being able to discuss the "hard things" with someone. He had felt alone in his thoughts of death and burial. He assumed that to plan for it outwardly with his wife could communicate a "quitting" mentality to Mom and he hated the thought of dashing her hopes of healing and survival. Mom had been his biggest cheerleader and life-affirmer for three and a half years... He made sure to tell me that I needed to remind Mom that "(he isn't) ever quitting, (he) just doesn't know how much energy he has to keep trying for enough strength." I told him she, we, he would be okay. From that point we discussed Mom and our understandings of her future needs. Dad and I were certainly on the same page and all I could do was assure him that she would be okay; I would make sure of it. It was understood that Mom would not have to make a phone call or search for a dollar bill to cover the cost of what comes next...
Mid-day on Thursday my dad's mother and youngest sister arrived in Flagstaff. My grandmother has not often flown in her lifetime and the trip was taken into serious consideration; she needed to see her son. It was hurting her heart to know he was in pain and she needed to be near him. It wasn't easy to ascend to nearly 7,000 feet above sea level for either of them, but Dad was beside himself with excitement. If fact, Thursday was Dad's best day in every way. He was energetic and excited to see them. He had great color and clarity in thinking. There was an air of "going home soon" and his attitude was infectious. Early in the day, Dad's doctor was hopeful as well, as he had not heard anything from the lab reports to the contrary, that the pneumonia had probably caused the fluid buildup and that he'd be good as new by Monday. Further excitement was added to the schedule when it was announced that Kevin, my Dad's brother, and his wife, Danita, would be arriving sometime on Friday...
Although later afternoon x-ray results indicated that more fluid would have to be drained from Dad's right lung the following day, we were in a "wait and see" hold...
Mom returned to Flagstaff in the early afternoon and was ready to turn in to our new "home away from the hospital" around 8:30 pm. We all needed SLEEP and Dad was especially ready for peace and quiet!
My grandmother, Icephine Sears
My aunt Charlene Sears
Dad was in so much PAIN, but adjusting his legs seemed to offer relief. Having his momma there was equally helpful. This was his best day...
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