Easing the Journey

I wrote this poem about my Dad, who was an amazing musical composer, band director/ professor, a sweet father, and a dedicated Christian. He died at 88 of Alzheimer's in 1998. The poem was published in Family Journal in 2002. Happy Father's Day, Daddy. I miss you!

He was my daddy.

He called me Pachooki and put me up on his shoulders.

I watched him compose music that made my toes tap and my heart beat in drum rhythm.

He directed bands and influenced souls

with his quiet Christian spirit.

He loved God, his church, his family, and band music.

Then Alzheimer's slithered in.

Quietly at first--a forgotten name, a topic repeated five minutes later,

Getting lost driving home.

My mother stood steadfast.

She repeated the phrases and quietly removed the ignition key

From his key ring.

On walks together he would propose all over again,

Then tell her to leave because he did not know her.

Her social world shrank

To quick grocery runs,

But he wandered anyway.

Angels-on-Earth brought him home each time

As we pondered our options.

A nursing home placement,

Safety for him, but more confusion

Except when he played hymns

On the piano.

A new enemy--pneumonia, came to stay,

Mother brought jello and spoon-fed him.

She stayed all day every day,

And I stayed in the evenings.

Within two months he stopped eating;

We got to know Hospice.

He slept all the time

And breathed so gently.

One day we knew he would soon leave us.

I stayed while Mother went home to change clothes.

She wanted to spend the night, to be with him at the end.

Through closed eyes, I took Daddy on a journey of his life.

We visited his birth family.

We remembered the lives he touched.

We thanked God for his leadership.

We laughed over old stories of dogs and vacations.

We said good-bye to the family still on Earth.

I sang his favorite hymns and told him I loved him.

I told him who was waiting to greet him in Heaven.

I told him we would join him "in the blink of an eye."

I think he smiled at me.

Mother returned; I cried driving home.

She continued the journey with him.

When I got home she was calling--

"He opened his eyes toward Heaven!

He smiled and nodded,

And then he was gone!"

Perhaps it is hard to let go of this life,

To let go of what's known and jump off in faith,

I hope we eased his journey...

Thank you, Father, for giving us glimpses,

For stirring and settling our souls.

For giving us families,

And granting us peace.