The day Harrison came home from the hospital I felt a real urgency to be at church. I didn't care who came with me, but I had to be there and I had to have the sacrament. I couldn't be late. I left the hospital a little bit before everyone else so that I could shower and get ready. They ended up getting home just in time to leave for church, but no one else was ready. Mom threw on a dress and went with me, just the two of us. I hadn't realized that it was fast and testimony meeting because of general conference the week before (a blessing in it's own right - what a way to bring peace to us as we awaited Harrison's surgery).
I felt an immediate desire to share the abundant blessings and feelings of comfort that we had experienced during the week at the hospital. A missionary from Norway spoke of how the man who had baptized him during his mission in Norway 9 years ago was here today as a complete "coincidence." Brother Treter said that he had felt strongly that he was supposed to speak to us about how God shows His love. He didn't feel that he really needed to because all of the testimonies thus far were already doing that, yet he felt strongly that he still needed to repeat it and say it in his words. He talked about how as people we give love notes to our spouses and children to show them that we care. We call them often and we give gifts. He said that Heavenly Father does the same thing, but he does it with "plausible deniability." You KNOW that they are gifts from him, but you can't PROVE it. He sends his love in many ways, including the words and deeds of others and the circumstances that we find ourselves in. A week and a half later I have begun to count the abundance of these occurences in my life during the most difficult challenge I've ever faced: losing my dad.
Harrison had been doing so well (1), that my mom said, "well, you really don't need me anymore." We talked about arranging for her to go home sooner, but decided we would just enjoy the last week together the way we had originally planned. She had been scheduled to fly out and see us this week before we knew about Harrison's condition. She was so excited because she was finally able to train someone new at work to do her job for her while she was away. For years when she travelled or took any time off she continued to worry about her job because she still had to take care of everything that happened while she was gone when she got back. What a blessing for her to leave work behind and know that someone else could do it. (2)
During the surgery and recovery I talked to my dad every day and kept him updated. We had the sweet conversations that you only have during difficult times like these. (3) Sometimes all you can say is how much you love one another and how you are constantly in one another's thoughts and prayers. Mom talked to him every day that she was away. On Saturday night she mentioned that he wasn't answering his phone or the home phone. She was a little concerned, but could think of lots of reasons why that would happen.
We had a good night's sleep, had breakfast and a really fun morning with the boys (4) and called again. When he didn't answer once again real concern began. Mom first called the neighbor to go over and check on him. He wasn't feeling well and she didn't want to bother him. It was just a few minutes before 9:00 on Sunday morning, so most of her closest friends were on their way to church together. I remembered a conversation with my friend Marna in July (5). She had specifically given me her mom's number for times like this when we just needed someone local to be there for my parents. We called her and she was so loving and willing. She wanted to get ready for the day first. In the meantime Jeff thought about someone from the church that he could still contact via text message and texted our old bishop, who quickly left church and headed over. As we waited to know what was happening we talked about how we felt. Both of us are very sensitive to knowing deep inside when there is something amiss. We both felt worried, but at peace that he was ok. (6)
The next call we had was from the police. What a shock it was to hear that he had passed.
I couldn't believe how well my mom was holding up during that call. It just seemed so long and they seemed to be asking her the most insignificant things. She kept her calm and described to them where they could find his medications and who his doctor was and blah, blah, blah... please leave her alone she just learned that her husband died. We did learn then that he was just sitting on the couch sleeping. He had the remote in one hand and his phone was there on his leg. If he had needed help he could have called, but he didn't even move enough for his phone to fall. He looked peaceful and comfortable. What a comfort this has been to us. (7)
We knew that we had to start letting family members know. I offered to make phone calls, but mom wanted to do it herself. Jeff started working on finding flights for us to get home. He found one that would get us back in the early evening and started to book it. We would leave in 15 minutes. We would take Harrison. I threw my suitcase together. Mom was pretty well packed already, having been living out of a suitcase for two weeks and keeping up with laundry, etc. The flight ended up being sold out. (8) As we tried to find another way to get there mom made more phone calls. She called dad's boss to let him know what happened. She mentioned that we were having trouble getting back and he said to give him 30 minutes and he would have a private plane scheduled to come and get us. (9) Because we had called Marna's mom, she was quickly informed and called me. (10) She has been through this before and knew just what I was experiencing. We cried together and it was so comforting to hear her voice. She loved my dad like a second father too, so I know that she is feeling much of the same things that I am.
Looking back, as difficult as it was to be so far away, we are so grateful that we were together. (11) I'm glad that mom didn't have to find him and then wait hours and hours for a family member to be there with her (12). We held each other and cried and pulled ourselves together to take care of things. She kept saying that it hasn't hit her yet... and I am still in awe at how well she could function and make those phone calls.
We didn't have to go through security. (13) Jeff and the boys sat with us, the only people in the waiting room. (14) Our flight took just two hours and twenty minutes. (15) The pilot was so kind to us and even let Jackson sit up front with him in the cockpit and wear the headphones. It was even a little fun. (16) The plane landed at the airport that is right across from mom's neighborhood (17) and her bishop picked us up. He brought us back to the house where he gave us both beautiful blessings. (18) My brother John and his family arrived within 30 minutes and we were all together. (19)
The house was immaculate. We learned over the course of the next few days that dad had been working on a lot of projects around the house to surprise mom when she got back a week later. The bushes were all trimmed, he had the base boards painted, he had the wallpaper removed, textured and painted the bathroom they'd talked about improving for years. He had been washing the windows that Saturday. The only thing out of place in the house was a squeegee on the kitchen counter. (20) The window washing gear was outside in the backyard and he had left the hose running. We think he must have gotten tired and sat down to take a break, falling asleep there.
There are so many things in our recent history that I can count as blessings and this post is getting way too long. As the days pass I see more and more the way the Lord has prepared us for this time. I won't continue to count them, but there are so many things that His hand has touched. I'm so grateful for the last few years that my parents had together, how they had worked out nearly all of their challenges and were truly enjoying one another. I think of the way that dad always said that he wanted to go, "dying in his boots." He did just that, not having to spend a moment in the hospital and having worked until his last breath.
