Late morning, I am alone, well rested, and with no pressing matters - at least until three o’clock, when I have to pick up Joe, Mark, and Rob at the airport and convey them to the Estero Island Beach Club.  Anne is taking Mom and Dad Woods and Mom Strehl there now.  I remain at the condominium and should be working on the two-weeks of mail - bills, 1099’s and the like - that has accumulated since I left to go to York for my father’s final days.  Looking at it all and considering my mood of peaceful relief, I decided it could wait a little longer.  I have not been without pressing demands since I was last here.  I pause to provide succor for myself.

All of the time since I began the drive north on Friday, February 10 has not been bad, and I have learned how through the years to take that deep breath and take stock rather than run in circles during a crisis.  I enjoyed seeing redbud trees blooming in north Florida during the drive.  I laughed with the staff of Autumn House and Heartland (hospice) Services when care went well or when there was the occasional confusion.  I jogged on each of the last six days in York.  My sister Laurie and I shared three drinks of my mother’s Canadian whiskey at 3:30 in the morning after my Dad passed and was removed by the undertaker.  We celebrated his life and that he was gone after a prolonged and uncomfortable dying.

Mostly, in the past two weeks, I have been dealing with things.  I drove quickly to York and visited my parents.  Dad was weak, skin and bones, but gave me a faint greeting.  Mom took the strong hug.  Soon Laurie and my brother Jim appeared.  I last saw him in the spring of 2009 when Anne and I visited him in Eugene OR.  Laurie had taken off work on the same Friday I started north to drive to York, open up  Mom and Dad’s house, and pick Jim up at the Harrisburg airport that evening.  He had not seen Mom and Dad in perhaps a decade.  This meeting constituted the first reunion of Dad and all his children in many decades. 

Then began the wait.  We tried to have someone sitting with Dad most of the time except overnight.  The double bed had been replaced with a hospital bed for Dad and a twin bed for Mom.  She would still sleep close to him at night.  We had to manage his care and consult and watch with the various staff from both the home and the hospice firms.  In addition to providing comfort for Dad and Mom and addressing his care with staff, we had to manage our own needs and housekeeping at the house where we siblings stayed.  Jim stayed a week.  We didn’t believe Dad would survive that long.  He and Dad enjoyed a final visit and farewell before Dad faded off.  Laurie, pressed by work, returned to Princeton in the middle of the first week and came back on the weekend.  She stayed through the MLK holiday and then another day when Dad died just after Midnight on Tuesday, February 21.  I was planning to be back here by then, but knew I was in for the duration.

After the long wait for death, it came as a bit of a surprise.  The declines seemed precipitous, so I guess it should have been no shock that he looked no worse on the evening of the 20th than he had the preciding day and would die in a few more hours. 
I held Dad’s shoulder and hand and wished him a good night at about nine o’clock in the evening.  We had put Mom to bed already.  She had taken little sleep the previous night.  The Autumn House nurse came in late that evening and noticed his breathing had changed.  She called the Heartlands nurse who arrived shortly after Midnight.  She checked Mom and sat with Dad.  He took his last breath at 12:43 A.M.  She woke Mom as the staff cleaned Dad.  Then she called me.  I woke Laure and we were there in a few minutes. 

The tears had already been shed.  The death was a relief.  He looked as he had for days, lying on the bed, mouth open for air.  The struggle for that liquor of life had ceased.  I touched my head to his and held his hand a last time.  We sat down with the young counselor from hospice and chatted.  It would be an hour before the undertaker would arrive.  There was time.  Mom sat back and dozed.  We spoke of Dad and shared the relief that the suffering was over.  There was no sudden sorrow for the loss, his life had been ebbing for more than a month, and we had not heard from him for days. 

The undertaker, Tye, a fine hunk of a man, arrived.  We aroused Mom for Dad’s departure.  We were ready.  Dad was rolled, the bag was placed underneath him and then zipped up around him.  Tye had brought in a gurney, reached across it, and gave Dad a trial lift.  Then he firmly and gently lifted him up and across towards him and onto the gurney.  I and the staff members were impressed.  I helped with the door and watched as Tye and a nurse took the gurney away.  Then I turned back into the room and closed the door knowing that my father was gone forever.

My parents had wisely made previous arrangements.  In fact they made arrangements in 1997.  They doubted they would survive the decade.  Instead they survived to 2001, the start of this Century, through the Naughts, and into the Teens.  We spent only a few minutes with the Undertaker making arrangements.  I suggested that the rates have probably gone up since the contract was made.  He said that the rates had gone up in 2010.  I chuckled at that and showed him the contract.  His eyes rolled and he said, “Oh yes, it has gone up much from that!”

With Dad gone, we put my mother to bed and went back to the house.  That is when Laurie and I shared the celebration whiskey.  The home had brought us coffee upon our arrival.  We needed to become less cerebral and were not ready for sleep.  We shared emotions and became tired in about an hour.  Then we slept for a couple of hours.  There was still much to do on that day.

We breakfasted and returned to the home.  The obituary had been written.  Only the date had to be added.   Laurie did that and called the newspaper.  Then she sent an e-mail to the newspaper.  Ah, the wonders of the 21st Century.  The obituary is available on-line too. 

I had gently offered to Mom to return with me to Florida and take a week away from the home there if she wished.  She said yes, and arrangements had to be made.  I had hoped to leave the next day.  That turned out not to be possible. 
Laurie left on Wednesday morning, but Mom and I still had a few chores.  She wanted a different apartment.  Dad had come into that apartment to die.  There were few good memories there.

We finished getting  Mom packed for Florida just after lunch.  She was ready to nap.  I left her to pack myself and to again shut down the house.  I finished a beautiful mild February afternoon with a second jog of the day, knowing I would be driving for two days.  Then I dined alone and went to bed realizing that it was the first night I had not shared that house with someone.  I also thought how mightily I missed Anne.  I set the alarm for six a.m.

The drive went well.  We stopped at my house to drop off some things and took the I-81, I-77, I-95, I-10, US 301, and I-75 route to Ft. Myers.  We reached Columbia and found a  coupon for a comfortable $46 Red Roof Inn.  Yesterday, slowed by construction, we reached the condominium at about six o’clock in the evening.  Anne had left us hamburgers.  She and Mom and Dad Woods were at the beach with Jim, Sheila, and Pam.  Mom Strehl and I would miss them.  They are on the way home as I write. 

Mom Woods was anxious to get to the beach this morning ahead of the brothers.  Dad, of course, slowed the departure.  I helped Anne load the car and board everyone.  Then I gave Anne a second good-bye.  We have been behaving as young lovers since our reunion taking many hugs, holding hands and kissing after our long separation. 

So they left and I take my pause.  Now, already it is Noon and I will take lunch.  I post this for your pleasure and for my memory.

Chuck