It has been a long time since I wrote on any of my blogs or, in fact, even letterboxed because it has been a long painful summer for my family. On June 29, I was in my eye doctor's office for my annual eye checkup and ironically making plans with her to go letterboxing on Neversink Mountain. She is a runner and runs on the mountain so I had told her last year about my boxes there. She unsuccessfully tried to find one or two of them so we decided to get together and I would show her the ropes. When I was checking out, I turned my phone back on to find a dozens of frantic texts, phone calls and emails from my siblings, mostly from my sister Karen. Three of my siblings were asking me for more details and Karen was asking me to contact her immediately. I was frantic trying to find Karen's number so that I could find out what was going on. It was the worst news possible for me and I think I startled the staff at the desk when I just said I had to go immediately. My parents had been in an accident and both were being admitted to the York Hospital, condition unknown. I live about an hour from my parents and about an hour and twenty minutes from the hospital but I think I made the trip to the hospital in less than an hour. I am so thankful that I didn't cause my own accident or get stopped for speeding. When I walked in to the emergency room, I was told that I had to go to the security desk and my heart sank with fear at those words. I got to the security desk and the guard told me that he would get someone to escort me back to my parents and I must have looked so frightened that he kindly told me, "Don't worry, they are in the intermediate care section, not in the critical care." I have always seen movies and read descriptions about people whose legs just give out from under them but I had never experienced it myself till now. Fortunately, I was able to grasp the security desk before collapsing entirely.
So, I made it back to my parents and was very happy to see them both alert and talking to Karen and her husband. Testing was still underway but the only thing that they could tell us for sure was that Daddy was going to be admitted because they thought that he had suffered a stroke which had caused the one car accident. Mom looked terrible with a badly bruised face, a concussion and a broken ankle and the decision was made to also admit her.
What happened during the next two weeks was a series of nightmares and hopeful events. Mom was discharged to a rehab hospital three days later. My sister Karen and I tried to fill in and be at the hospital as much as possible. Karen also lives an hour away from my parents, my brother lives in Saint Simons Island, GA, and another sister lives in Sacramento, CA. My third sister who lives an hour away in yet another direction was estranged from my parents. Fortunately, Karen is a school teacher and was able to spend a lot of time in the hospital the first week but she had been planning a two week camping vacation in South Dakota and we saw no reason at the time for her to stay home. So the second week, I took a lot of vacation days and spent most of my time either at the rehab or in the hospital. It was pretty certain that my mother would recover but it would take a lot of time. My dad confused everyone, one day he would be fairly alert and talkative, even making plans with me to have new carpet put in their house and the next day, he would be lethargic and just lie in his bed staring. One night when I was sure that he would never see another sunrise, he woke up and squeezed my hand and said to me "You know what, Janney, I love you" and he then drifted off into his lethargy again.
The doctors began to give us hints that my dad would never again go home but they wouldn't come right out and say that they thought he would die. By this time, he had developed pneumonia and had a tube inserted into a hole in his chest which was caused by the airbag explosion. He had really good days and he had really bad days so we made arrangements to bring my mother from the rehab to visit with him, hoping that it would cheer him up. I love this picture even though it is painful for me to look at too often.
The third week after the accident, I went back to work after having a really good three days with my dad. He hadn't been allowed to eat solid foods due to some complications and he had just been cleared for any food at all that he wanted. So my estranged sister, who had begun to help us out, and I brought all kinds of junk food in for him. He had a McDonalds' chocolate milkshake, cheeseburger and apple pie, potato chips and black raspberry ice cream from Mack's and he ate all of them. I left the hospital on Sunday night feeling good about things but that didn't last long. The next morning, the doctor called me to find out how Daddy had been the day before. I told her he was wonderful and I had been so excited. That was when she told me that she found him totally withdrawn and unresponsive to any questions that she asked him, she felt he had suffered another stroke. I quickly made a trip back over to York and was stunned to see the change in him. He looked at me with such fear in his eyes and was unable to speak at all, he just made little grunting noises. I tearfully told him that he could do what he needed to do and it would be ok. It was so hard to make these decisions and so terrible to be the one to tell my mother what was going on. Because of her concussion, she was having a very rough time understanding everything and her short term memory was very bad so she could hardly remember where she was, let alone where my dad was. I went home Tuesday night scared to death about my decision as power of attorney to withhold any life support.
I received the last call from the hospital about two o'clock in the morning and I was told to get to the hospital quickly because things were very bad. My partner, Bill, came with me and shortly later left for the rehab to bring my mother to the hospital. While he was gone, I sat beside my father, holding his hand and watching a beautiful sunrise out of his window. I told him that I thought it might be his last sunrise and I was so happy to be the one to share it with him.
My mom arrived and my sister Teri and her husband came in a little later and we sat with Daddy for the whole morning. Shortly after noon, we all watched him take his last breaths. But as we held his hands and cried for our loss, we also rejoiced that my father was finally free of pain. He had suffered from COPD for years, his back was bad, he legs were worse and his vision had deteriorated terribly but now he was whole again. He could stand up straight and breath easily and could now perfectly see to look for my little dog, Barney. He had promised me he would take care of Barney till I could see him again and I am confident that he is doing that now.
My dad was a gentle man who never coveted things he couldn't have. He loved to build things and their house which had been a little two bedroom cape cod with a living room, kitchen and bathroom, soon grew. He added two bedrooms on to it, a dining room, finished off five rooms in the basement and added a garage. His yard had a tiered garden and a large patio. He was a putterer and built birdhouses and little wooden yard ornaments. After he retired, his big joy was his volunteer work with Habitat for Humanity but, sadly, he had to give that up after a couple of years due to his COPD. He never lived outside of his means and when we were kids, he often worked two jobs to ensure that all five of his children would graduate from York Catholic High School. Besides my mother and my four siblings, he left twelve grandchildren and two great grandchildren. We all love him dearly and a large part of our life ended the day that his ended. I miss you, Daddy.
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