In the midst of my family's journey across the North American continent, I was awoken at midnight last Monday in a small town in western Kansas by my wife - my father had died an hour earlier.
We had to continue on to California - it was complicated but for various reasons, the best course of action was to drive on and then fly back home. I sit now in a hotel room waiting for my flight tomorrow, the first available.
Death is inevitable, we all know this. My father was the strongest man I ever knew. He had a stroke several years ago, just months after retiring early in order to enjoy full-time the outdoor activities he enjoyed most. The after-effects of the stroke restricted his activity greatly, he never drove again. Subsequent strokes took away his dignity, privacy and independence. Earlier that year he was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease).
When I left for Korea two years ago my father suffered from the effects of his strokes but he could still get around. He could still do things and we could pretend that he was still the man he had always been. I could take him fishing or take him out to work on things and even though we both knew he was not the same we never admitted it to each other. He would tell me point blank to give him the keys and let him drive and I could play it off by saying,"daddy you may be able to stand up to mama but I cannot if I give you the keys she will get me." He could not do the work he had always done but I could always pretend that he could and make up for the rest myself. He never let on for a minute that he was diminished in any way and I never viewed him as anything other than the man I had always known.
When I returned from Iraq the last time I had terrible nightmares. I spent much of my leave at his house, my boyhood home. Even though he suffered as he did, when I closed my eyes at night at his house I felt safe - safe in a way I did not feel at my own house. It was not realistic but as a then 37-year-old combat veteran, I felt that my 67-year-old disabled father was somehow protecting me from the demons in the world just as he had when I was a child. I slept better hearing him snore down the hall and knowing he was there.
When I returned from Korea last month after an absence of two years my father was much changed. Although he was just diagnosed with ALS he was already in the process of the disease by a couple of years. If you do not know about ALS I can tell you simply it is a terrible affliction. Your mind remains but slowly your muscles and nerves fail you. The changes, the deterioration can be dramatic and noticeable over just a few months. I cannot describe the agony of seeing the man you most respect, fear and admire tremble and shake trying to lift his hand to his mouth.
I left South Carolina with assurances from his doctor that my father would be there this December when I planned to return with my family for our last Christmas together. We are never promised a tomorrow - I will not have that last Christmas with my father.
My father was a man's man - a Marine, Christian and an avid outdoorsman. He could and did work me into the ground on many occasions. He never let anyone within his circle of concern go without. If something was broke he was going to fix it or get someone to fix it. If something needed doing, he just did it. He was never one to sit still often, he worked and that was his recreation. I do not mean that he abandoned his family for material gain - not at all. He made sure to get home for supper - after supper, he always worked; in the garden, in his building or doing something for someone.
He was gifted with that special common-sense only wise men gain.
His Christianity was simple and sincere. We disagreed from time to time precisely because I made my Christianity too complicated. He always ensured that I was in church as a child and young man and he always lived his beliefs. He did not drink or swear (often) and was never profane. He treated my mother with respect, took care of her and loved her.
My mother always said he was proud of me but I never really achieved the feeling that he respected me, perhaps he did or maybe he remembered that kid that screwed things up. He was always there to pick me up from any mistake - and there were many over the years, a heck of a lot of them between the time I was 16 and 25. He never abandoned me, no matter that I should not have been doing what I did, he probably told me not to and it was just stupid of me in any case.
I cannot do justice to this man in words I might write. He did not change the world but by his hand and example he changed me and made me who I am. I will miss him. He has gone on to a better place but I will miss him all the same.
by Barry Clark
We had to continue on to California - it was complicated but for various reasons, the best course of action was to drive on and then fly back home. I sit now in a hotel room waiting for my flight tomorrow, the first available.
Death is inevitable, we all know this. My father was the strongest man I ever knew. He had a stroke several years ago, just months after retiring early in order to enjoy full-time the outdoor activities he enjoyed most. The after-effects of the stroke restricted his activity greatly, he never drove again. Subsequent strokes took away his dignity, privacy and independence. Earlier that year he was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease).
When I left for Korea two years ago my father suffered from the effects of his strokes but he could still get around. He could still do things and we could pretend that he was still the man he had always been. I could take him fishing or take him out to work on things and even though we both knew he was not the same we never admitted it to each other. He would tell me point blank to give him the keys and let him drive and I could play it off by saying,"daddy you may be able to stand up to mama but I cannot if I give you the keys she will get me." He could not do the work he had always done but I could always pretend that he could and make up for the rest myself. He never let on for a minute that he was diminished in any way and I never viewed him as anything other than the man I had always known.
When I returned from Iraq the last time I had terrible nightmares. I spent much of my leave at his house, my boyhood home. Even though he suffered as he did, when I closed my eyes at night at his house I felt safe - safe in a way I did not feel at my own house. It was not realistic but as a then 37-year-old combat veteran, I felt that my 67-year-old disabled father was somehow protecting me from the demons in the world just as he had when I was a child. I slept better hearing him snore down the hall and knowing he was there.
When I returned from Korea last month after an absence of two years my father was much changed. Although he was just diagnosed with ALS he was already in the process of the disease by a couple of years. If you do not know about ALS I can tell you simply it is a terrible affliction. Your mind remains but slowly your muscles and nerves fail you. The changes, the deterioration can be dramatic and noticeable over just a few months. I cannot describe the agony of seeing the man you most respect, fear and admire tremble and shake trying to lift his hand to his mouth.
I left South Carolina with assurances from his doctor that my father would be there this December when I planned to return with my family for our last Christmas together. We are never promised a tomorrow - I will not have that last Christmas with my father.
My father was a man's man - a Marine, Christian and an avid outdoorsman. He could and did work me into the ground on many occasions. He never let anyone within his circle of concern go without. If something was broke he was going to fix it or get someone to fix it. If something needed doing, he just did it. He was never one to sit still often, he worked and that was his recreation. I do not mean that he abandoned his family for material gain - not at all. He made sure to get home for supper - after supper, he always worked; in the garden, in his building or doing something for someone.
He was gifted with that special common-sense only wise men gain.
His Christianity was simple and sincere. We disagreed from time to time precisely because I made my Christianity too complicated. He always ensured that I was in church as a child and young man and he always lived his beliefs. He did not drink or swear (often) and was never profane. He treated my mother with respect, took care of her and loved her.
My mother always said he was proud of me but I never really achieved the feeling that he respected me, perhaps he did or maybe he remembered that kid that screwed things up. He was always there to pick me up from any mistake - and there were many over the years, a heck of a lot of them between the time I was 16 and 25. He never abandoned me, no matter that I should not have been doing what I did, he probably told me not to and it was just stupid of me in any case.
I cannot do justice to this man in words I might write. He did not change the world but by his hand and example he changed me and made me who I am. I will miss him. He has gone on to a better place but I will miss him all the same.
by Barry Clark
Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace.
ReplyDeleteMy prayers and with your family.
I am sorry for your loss; you are in our prayers.
ReplyDelete