For Dad, From Colleen - You Will Be Forever Loved and Cherished

It was really easy when my Dad passed to think about all the things we will miss out on with him gone. But as soon as that thought enters my mind the Lord reminds me of how we were blessed with a lifetime of love and memories in the short time he was here. Dementia may have taken my Dad’s life but it didn’t steal his soul. He never complained about his condition and found contentment in each day even though he had many struggles. There are so many amazing things about my Dad as some of you may know. I would like to share some of the accounts I was blessed to experience with him.

My Dad of course taught me many things. One of the earliest memories I have is of him teaching me how to hold a baseball bat. It was one of those big red plastic ones. He would place his hands over mine as he helped me swing. His hands were always very distinguishable. They were the biggest, strongest hands I have ever known. He always had calluses on his palms and bruises under his fingernails. They told stories of a hard working man and the many things he built, including the one of the home my parents currently live in. The effort he put into his work itself was how he shared his love for his family and friends. No matter what it was he was doing whether it be his police work, carpentry, and or farming he always used his gifts to help others.

I was pretty young through his police days but I remember seeing him on TV during the D.C. riots in the 80s. As I grew older he shared stories about his police days. We also saw him in action a few times when he would stop for accidents to help people. One accident was one he and I were involved in. He was driving me home from college as he did many times before. We witnessed a collision occur in front of us so we pulled over to help. He had gotten out to check on the people in one of the vehicles as they were elderly individuals. In that moment, our vehicle, with me in it, was rear-ended, and projected into the parked vehicle in front of us. He went into police mode with no fear right away, even after witnessing his daughter being rear-ended by a jack-knifed tractor trailer on 95. He still remained calm and his presence comforting, he was the only reason why I was able to keep myself together during the accident. My Mom on the other hand was a different story, she was so distraught she told a hay customer she loved them over the phone. In my teenage years I received much instruction based on his police training. I mean how many teenage girls get a professional crash course of self-defense almost every time they leave the house? Not to mention the different types of weapons he taught me how to use. There was another moment later in life I got to experience his life as a police officer. It was when he went with me and my daughter Eden to stay overnight at the D.C. children’s hospital. As we drove through D.C. he would point out streets and buildings where certain accidents, fires, arrests, deaths, and lives saved occurred. He talked of police partners he had, friends he made, and friends he had lost. I was amazed with all he did and all he faced. But the fact he was there helping in those instances didn’t surprise me as the reason he was with me that day was to help me. 

My daughter Eden has a seizure disorder and at the time she was just under 2 years old and had to have some overnight testing done to monitor her seizures. The tests were scheduled the day before Christmas Eve. We did that on purpose because at the time it was the only time Michael and I were off from work. But as it happens that time of year Michael was sick and was unable to go with us. With the types of tests she was having she had to be monitored around the clock so any seizures could be noted. So who do you find to go with you in the heart of D.C. the day before Christmas Eve? Of course my Dad! He and Eden shared a bond like no other after that night. And it meant so very much to me that he took the time to come. My dad was always there for his family when it mattered most.

After his retirement from his police work it didn’t take long for him to get into farming. Anyone who farms knows its not for the money, it was his passion. Planting fields, watching them grow, managing a bountiful harvest, stacking hay in the barn, delivering hay, feeding the animals, was what my Dad loved to do. I believe it brought him back to his childhood growing up on a dairy farm. We enjoyed hearing about his life on a farm as a child. How he and his brothers and sisters were chased up into a tree by a bull and stayed there until their mom came home. And how he literally hitchhiked to school in the snow. 

I had the privilege of experiencing farm life because of my Dad. Some of my favorite memories and much of who I am today comes from those days. Of course with farm life comes a lot of responsibility. We had a goat, chickens, roosters, cows, horses, rabbits, dogs, and countless cats. Dad taught me to manage and care for these animals. He taught me how to operate farm equipment, everything from a lawn mower to a tractor, dump truck, bailer, and much more. He taught me what it meant to experience physical labor and what hard work really looks like. He taught me no matter how long things took or how hard they were to do it right the first time. I use many of these skills today with my own family, and each time I do I think of him. It wasn’t just the farming that brought joy to my dad it was the people he encountered as well. The people within his farming community that share the same love not only for farming, but the love for helping people. Many of those same people were reoccurring visitors up until his passing. I know my Dad was forever grateful for them.

The memories that will stick with me most of all are the ones that defied the boundaries of dementia. Early on in his sickness I still remember the look on his face when Laurie and Greg were married. He adored Laurie so much. At that time he had a hard time expressing what he wanted to say but you could see in his eyes his love for her. They have very similar souls those two. She hung on his shirt tail almost every minute growing up, and she continued to be there for him when he was in need in his final days. I believe he waited to see her and meet baby Gregory, his newest grandchild before he passed. In one of those final visits he was also able to hear Kaelyn talk on the other side of the telephone, my Mom and Laurie say his eyes lit up. I know what those eyes looked like even though I wasn’t there because it’s what he did when he saw any of his grandchildren. In his last visit with Holly, his next youngest grandchild was there with him, Mary Katherine. He had a hard time opening his eyes that day, I know because I was there earlier that day. But he managed to open his eyes just for her, I’m so grateful they were able to capture that on camera, it was probably one of the most beautiful pictures I’ve ever seen.

Up until his final days me and my family got to experience what I call “glimpses” of my Dad. Many times the glimpses we experienced came in a mannerism, such as when he would cross his legs and dangle his foot back and forth. Other times we could see he was “there” in his eyes. He was alert and aware of his surroundings. We were really grateful when the glimpses we experience would come in words. If he spoke loud enough and his words made any sort of sense, you better believe that what he was trying to say was important. I was honored to be on the receiving side of many of those moments. About a month before he passed I had the opportunity to visit with him. When I arrived to visit he was in bed lying still and quiet, I could tell in his eyes that he was “there.” I pulled out my phone and began to show him pictures of my family, he mentioned how my daughter JoyAnna looked just like me when I was little. I was taken back by his memory and sharpness. He smiled as I continued to show him pictures of all of his grandchildren. We went on to family in pictures on Facebook. He mentioned all his brothers and sisters by name, and in his way asked how they were. He identified many other family members by name as well according to their picture. I am so grateful for that day as my following visits with him weren’t as fruitful. My last visit with him was on Christmas Eve. It was the day I was told he wasn’t doing well and his health would decline quickly. They were right he was struggling that day. But he tried with all his might to open his eyes when I asked him to. I had the opportunity that day to read with him in Luke chapter 2 about the birth of Jesus. I also got to tell him that I love him and was praying for him. Many people do not get the chance to tell their loved one those things and I’m so glad I did.

I saved some of the best accounts of my Dad for last. They are the ones that demonstrate his eternal love for my Mom. They may not seem significant to many but they are to me. How he would kiss my mom goodbye before they went about their separate ways each day, how he would make a cup of tea for her upon request, or start her car up when it was cold outside. I will never forget the sound of his voice over the phone on 9/11 when he thought he lost his wife, it was the only time I ever knew him to be utterly lost. It was even more amazing to witness his love exceed even the boundaries of dementia. In some of their final visits he at times would still have the ability to tell my Mom he loved her and reach out for her hand, or ask how she was doing, or notice that she wasn’t there when she was sick. He always was a protector and it shined through even in the grimmest times.

The example my parents set for us will never be forgotten. My Mom took such great care of him, I believe it’s one of the reasons he did so well up until the very end. Her last visit with him was Christmas day. My mom mentioned it being a good day, as he was sitting up in his chair with his legs crossed and seemed delighted at the mention of a cup of coffee. I’m glad she had that day together with him because unbeknownst to her it would be their last.

Though it appeared this disease had taken everything from my dad, his protective nature seemed still to prevail right up until the end. The day after their wonderful visit my Mom got on the phone to plan out his final days, she was working on bringing him back to the home he built for them. At that precise moment she was on the phone, the Lord took my Dad to his permanent home. I know we have no control over when we take our last breath, God does, but I believe it all happened just the way my Dad would have wanted. I believe he was protecting my Mom from his death being her final memory. He knew she had done everything for him she could and didn’t want to put her through anymore. The Lord knew this about her heart as well and I know it all in happened in His will.

Though we see my Dad’s life as a life cut short, due to dementia in his final years he was not able to do what he loved to do. He could not work and provide for his family, he was unable to help others the way he would have liked, he couldn’t protect and enjoy the family he had been so very blessed with. Though he was here he was restricted to the sidelines of his own life. Paul tells us in 2 Corinthians 5 verse 8 that to be absent in the body is to be present with the Lord. My dad is no longer confined to a bed or chair. He no longer has to endure the pain of this earth. He received the ultimate healing and his work here is done. Praise God he is with our Lord.

Losing my Dad to dementia makes it that much more important to me to recognize how his memory can live on. His memory can continue in each one of us. I see him everyday in my long toes that he passed down to me, my quiet nature, love for jeeps, and my coffee drinking habit. I see his work ethic in my son Noah as he tends diligently to our garden, I see him in Laurie’s eyes, and in Holly’s willingness to give. I will see him each time we gather in the home he built for his wife and family. I'm so very grateful that I had the privilege to experience these memories and so many more with this wonderful man I got to call Dad.