Today makes one year since my dad died. The Crankee Yankee and I were honored to have him in our home for the month and two days he was with us. It was a joy and a pleasure for us all.
We developed our own routine, and we all adjusted very well. Dad couldn’t eat very much, but we had a good time making things he liked. He liked hot dogs, french toast with blueberries, vanilla ice cream, soups, salads and toast. Never a big eater, he was happy with our impromptu menus.
As time went on, he was in bed most of the days and nights. We had Hospice come in for him, and he enjoyed the help and attention. We devised a “call” system for him so we could help in the nights when he needed it. We started with a bell, and then switched to one of those little air horns. We all thought it was funny, but it worked.
There came a time when he refused food, saying that he needed sleep more than food. But occasionally I would tempt him with a homemade cookie (he loved my chocolate chip ones) or some ice cream. Come to think of it, I haven’t made cookies of any kind since.
It was both a sweet and sad time, but we were grateful for the time we had. By the time Dad was in our home, we had taken care of all his paperwork, we were in the process of selling his house in Wolfeboro, and we had everything that Dad needed.
The Crankee Yankee was always there to help get him out of bed when necessary. He loved Dad, and Dad loved him. There were many times when I could hear them talking together, and the sound of their voices made me happy.
The only thing that seemed to bother Dad was the constant rain and gloomy weather. How I prayed for just one sunny day so I could put up the shades and he could lie in the sun. I wanted so much for him. Even though he was nearly bedridden, I wished so much that we could have taken one more ride around the ocean, and to see Wentworth By the Sea where he and my mom had had so many lovely overnights. I wanted him to have just one more lobster roll, one more plate of clams, and one more day of sunshine.
I was alone with him he passed on peacefully. He looked like a little boy who had had a big day and fell asleep. There was such peace in his face, and I knew that he had been ready to go for a long time.
While I cried for the loss of my father, I rejoiced in knowing that he and my mother were finally together again. He had missed her dearly since she died on December 16, 2015. They were perfect for each other, and perfect for me.
I miss him and my mother, but I know that we will all be together again someday. I believe with all my heart that love lives on. The love we keep never leaves us.