Well Dad, last night Jer, Jake, Todd, Jesse, and I gathered for supper at Arangs (our favorite family restaurant ) for some loving care from Ming and Mae. It was a good night Dad. We lingered for two and a half hours in the party room enjoying eachother and memories of you there. We ordered our latest favorites without hesitation even though you always did that for us:broiled squid, wakame salad, agadashi tofu and the glorious caterpillar roll that Aunt Rosanne taught us about. Jake got something delicious and spicy (I forgot the name), and the rest of us got sushi combos (no surprise there). I remembered when you guys brought Sushi from Arangs to our home after Jesse was born. Thankyou for spoiling us so lovingly! I remember that Sushi was one of the only foods I neverlost during my pregnancy.
By the way Dad, I finally found another lady who had the same severe sickness that I had during pregnancy. Her doctor was familiar with the condition "hyperemesis gravidarum" and she was actually able to be semi-active and greatly reduce symptoms by using a medication made for chemotherapy patients (Zophran). This gives us a lot more hope when thinking of possibly getting pregnant again.
During our meal Jesse was really tired from trying to work with Jer and Brian all afternoon while they did construction on our kitchen so he when he got fussy Mae and Leena entertained him (trying to give me some time to eat) which was great. Then, later on, they brought out some Mango ice cream for him and we were all remembering how you gave him his very first ice cream here and it had been the Mango flavor (Mae remembered). Jake had not had time for a real meal in a couple of days andit was Jer's last day in Ohio until September so it was definitely time for some good healthy food and a send-off dinner. Well Dad, we had a lovely time hanging out there for a few hours and we missed you but also felt like you were very close. And at the end of supper we all toasted you and Rocky Jones with the smoked eel sushi. (and Jake with the caterpillar roll) I imagine that you and Rocky were smiling down on us. And I am quite sure that by now you have gotten the chance to meet Todd's father, Jesse Freeman Cade up there in heaven. Well, until we see you guys again. Lots of love from down here....
Monday, March 19, 2007
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Work progesses on the bathroom project you designed for us, Dad
Dear Dad,
So many friends have offered us their help Dad and I just had to show you these photos of Jeremy fixing our bathroom. He's been working nonstop to help us with our house projects so we can try to sell our house in Piqua and hopefully move into 614 Barnhart Rd. We all realize how much we love your house and want to keep it in the family. It will be nice to come home to a place where we can feel close to you and all of the memories our family made there. We have also enlisted Brian Dunne's help. He is such a gem-kind, knowledgeable, helpful, and as you know a devoted, young, hardworking father like you were. Jer has been so patient with Jesse who is intrigued with him and his work and has been "helping" him out.
So many friends have offered us their help Dad and I just had to show you these photos of Jeremy fixing our bathroom. He's been working nonstop to help us with our house projects so we can try to sell our house in Piqua and hopefully move into 614 Barnhart Rd. We all realize how much we love your house and want to keep it in the family. It will be nice to come home to a place where we can feel close to you and all of the memories our family made there. We have also enlisted Brian Dunne's help. He is such a gem-kind, knowledgeable, helpful, and as you know a devoted, young, hardworking father like you were. Jer has been so patient with Jesse who is intrigued with him and his work and has been "helping" him out.
A favorite family song from the soundtrack (CD titled) "Down From The Mountain" and I think from the movie "Oh Brother Where Art Thou"
Some Bright morning when this life is o'er, I'll fly away
To a home on God's celestial shore, I'll fly away
CHORUS: I'll fly away, O Lordy, I'll fly away (in the morning)
When I die, Hallelujah, by & by, I'll fly away
When the shadows of this life have grown, I'll fly away
Like a bird that prison bars has flown, I'll fly away
CHORUS
Just a few more weary days & then, I'll fly away
To a land where joys will never end, I'll fly away
CHORUS
by Albert E. Brumley
To a home on God's celestial shore, I'll fly away
CHORUS: I'll fly away, O Lordy, I'll fly away (in the morning)
When I die, Hallelujah, by & by, I'll fly away
When the shadows of this life have grown, I'll fly away
Like a bird that prison bars has flown, I'll fly away
CHORUS
Just a few more weary days & then, I'll fly away
To a land where joys will never end, I'll fly away
CHORUS
by Albert E. Brumley
January 2007-The Last Lullabye Dad sung to Jesse, Morgan Burt, & Joy
ANGELS WATCHIN' OVER ME ( from the book Rise Up Singing )
Chorus: All night, all day, angels watchin' over me, my Lord
All night, all day, angels watchin' over me
Day is dyin' in the west-Angels watchin' over me, my Lord
Sleep my child & take your rest-Angels watchin' over me
Now I lay me down to sleep-Angels watchin' over me, my Lord
Pray the Lord my soul to keep-Angels watchin' over me
If I die before I wake-Angels watchin' over me, my Lord
Pray the Lord my soul to take-Angels watchin' over me
Children, sleep, the moon is high-Angels watchin' over me, my Lord
You are safe & love is nigh-Angels watchin' over me
Chorus: All night, all day, angels watchin' over me, my Lord
All night, all day, angels watchin' over me
Day is dyin' in the west-Angels watchin' over me, my Lord
Sleep my child & take your rest-Angels watchin' over me
Now I lay me down to sleep-Angels watchin' over me, my Lord
Pray the Lord my soul to keep-Angels watchin' over me
If I die before I wake-Angels watchin' over me, my Lord
Pray the Lord my soul to take-Angels watchin' over me
Children, sleep, the moon is high-Angels watchin' over me, my Lord
You are safe & love is nigh-Angels watchin' over me
March 14th, 2007 (Thoughts about that stormy day)
The rain fell thick and heavy
It lasted all night long
Cleansing the streets and quenching the earth
It sang the cry of our hearts
The day was long and grey
With a mood dark to match it
One muddled about in a fog
Feeling sad, heavy, lethargic
There is fear for the feelings here
One might want a way to avoid them
Friends say No, for time heals pain but
Feelings grow worse from postponement
Crying is healthy, so we've heard
And Mother Nature confirms it
For the sweetest air you'll ever breath
comes the morning after Spring Showers
It lasted all night long
Cleansing the streets and quenching the earth
It sang the cry of our hearts
The day was long and grey
With a mood dark to match it
One muddled about in a fog
Feeling sad, heavy, lethargic
There is fear for the feelings here
One might want a way to avoid them
Friends say No, for time heals pain but
Feelings grow worse from postponement
Crying is healthy, so we've heard
And Mother Nature confirms it
For the sweetest air you'll ever breath
comes the morning after Spring Showers
Monday, March 12, 2007
Thursday, March 8, 2007
"Dad's Hands"
Sunday, March 4th
I miss you, Dad. I miss your strong warm hands. Your hand squeeze gave me so much comfort and reassurance. As the trembling in your hands grew worse, the comfort your hands brought grew only more potent. Even after your second and final seizure when your eyes had swollen shut and each breath was labored you still squeezed my hand when I placed mine inside yours. You still carried me while angels waited to carry you.
We placed your bed in the sun room where you loved to sit and watch the wild birds come to eat and rest in the oasis you made for them. Here we hovered near you trying to be helpful and to comfort each other. I remember praying and trying to keep your lips moist with water as you were only breathing through your mouth now. Most of all, though I remember again and again slipping my hand into yours for comfort. And even then as you were less and less with us and were closer and closer to God, you still squeezed my hand. Thank you Dad for helping me through your death.
You picked the perfect night for our vigil. Thick snow blanketed the world outside bringing stillness and quiet. Then the snow stopped for a couple of hours around one in the morning. A beautiful scene developed outside of the sliding glass doors near your bed.The moon was bright overhead as it lit up the whole backyard. Your wild birds came out for a mid-storm snack. Some hovered at the feeders, others hopped about on the new-fallen snow looking for dropped seeds. I went from your bedside to the window and then back again wondering if I should try to get a few hours sleep or if I should stay by your bedside. I looked outside again and saw a small bunny hopping nimbly across the snow along the edge of the treeline. It stopped by a slender sapling poking out of the snow and stayed there for a long while. I think it was having breakfast there.
I felt as though you had sent this happy peaceful scene to let me know that everything was alright. I could imagine your concerned voice advising me to go to bed even as you were engaged in the incredibly intense fight to exit your physical body and return in spirit to God. I wished later that I had never left your side that night. I wish I'd known what a small amount of time you had left. Then though, I had only felt a strong sense of peace and calmness and I left you laying there in your struggle to get in bed with my husband and baby. You were always so worried about our needs, so so much more than your own.
Thank you Dad, for leading us through your illness and your death. Thank you for having found acceptance and peace yourself. Thank you for your humor, your patience, and your determination to live every last minute . Thank you for the many times you pushed through the pain and fatigue so that you could spend time with us. Thank you for sharing every last bit of yourself that you could before you had to go.
We arose the morning of your death to Joyce's fresh coffee and to gentle happy music playing. She had awoken from a short sleep. She must have felt you needing her. We didn't know it but we didn't have much time left with you . Joyce had already called Dr. Plumb by the time we got up. He was going to come over as your breathing had changed and sounded worse to us. Jake was going to brave the unplowed roads from Cincinnati first thing in the morning and Jeremy had just called as he had finally been able to get a flight from Germany despite all the shut down airway traffic. He would be home soon too.
We stood beside the bed, worrying about your breathing, Joyce still with the phone in her hand from talking to Jeremy, when you let out one long last sigh and then you breathed no more.
We looked at each other, stunned, I think, and then relieved. No more suffering, Dad. No more pain. No more struggling to leave behind the body that was failing. Well done, Dad. I am so, so proud of you. And thank you for always thinking of us, for trying to prepare us and as always, thank you for holding my hand the whole way through. Thank you for teaching us how to live, how to live with illness, and how to die with love and peace.
Dad, thank you also for including me in the circle of friends and family who did all they could to help you out. My ability seemed mostly just to be visiting with you Dad, (me, Jesse, and Todd). Thank you for letting me do this in your last hours, Dad. It was an honor and a privilege that I will be forever grateful for. With lots of love, Dad,
Peace out,
Joy
I miss you, Dad. I miss your strong warm hands. Your hand squeeze gave me so much comfort and reassurance. As the trembling in your hands grew worse, the comfort your hands brought grew only more potent. Even after your second and final seizure when your eyes had swollen shut and each breath was labored you still squeezed my hand when I placed mine inside yours. You still carried me while angels waited to carry you.
We placed your bed in the sun room where you loved to sit and watch the wild birds come to eat and rest in the oasis you made for them. Here we hovered near you trying to be helpful and to comfort each other. I remember praying and trying to keep your lips moist with water as you were only breathing through your mouth now. Most of all, though I remember again and again slipping my hand into yours for comfort. And even then as you were less and less with us and were closer and closer to God, you still squeezed my hand. Thank you Dad for helping me through your death.
You picked the perfect night for our vigil. Thick snow blanketed the world outside bringing stillness and quiet. Then the snow stopped for a couple of hours around one in the morning. A beautiful scene developed outside of the sliding glass doors near your bed.The moon was bright overhead as it lit up the whole backyard. Your wild birds came out for a mid-storm snack. Some hovered at the feeders, others hopped about on the new-fallen snow looking for dropped seeds. I went from your bedside to the window and then back again wondering if I should try to get a few hours sleep or if I should stay by your bedside. I looked outside again and saw a small bunny hopping nimbly across the snow along the edge of the treeline. It stopped by a slender sapling poking out of the snow and stayed there for a long while. I think it was having breakfast there.
I felt as though you had sent this happy peaceful scene to let me know that everything was alright. I could imagine your concerned voice advising me to go to bed even as you were engaged in the incredibly intense fight to exit your physical body and return in spirit to God. I wished later that I had never left your side that night. I wish I'd known what a small amount of time you had left. Then though, I had only felt a strong sense of peace and calmness and I left you laying there in your struggle to get in bed with my husband and baby. You were always so worried about our needs, so so much more than your own.
Thank you Dad, for leading us through your illness and your death. Thank you for having found acceptance and peace yourself. Thank you for your humor, your patience, and your determination to live every last minute . Thank you for the many times you pushed through the pain and fatigue so that you could spend time with us. Thank you for sharing every last bit of yourself that you could before you had to go.
We arose the morning of your death to Joyce's fresh coffee and to gentle happy music playing. She had awoken from a short sleep. She must have felt you needing her. We didn't know it but we didn't have much time left with you . Joyce had already called Dr. Plumb by the time we got up. He was going to come over as your breathing had changed and sounded worse to us. Jake was going to brave the unplowed roads from Cincinnati first thing in the morning and Jeremy had just called as he had finally been able to get a flight from Germany despite all the shut down airway traffic. He would be home soon too.
We stood beside the bed, worrying about your breathing, Joyce still with the phone in her hand from talking to Jeremy, when you let out one long last sigh and then you breathed no more.
We looked at each other, stunned, I think, and then relieved. No more suffering, Dad. No more pain. No more struggling to leave behind the body that was failing. Well done, Dad. I am so, so proud of you. And thank you for always thinking of us, for trying to prepare us and as always, thank you for holding my hand the whole way through. Thank you for teaching us how to live, how to live with illness, and how to die with love and peace.
Dad, thank you also for including me in the circle of friends and family who did all they could to help you out. My ability seemed mostly just to be visiting with you Dad, (me, Jesse, and Todd). Thank you for letting me do this in your last hours, Dad. It was an honor and a privilege that I will be forever grateful for. With lots of love, Dad,
Peace out,
Joy
Recent Pictures of Dad
Jeremy and Dad making music together - October 2006
Dad, Jesse, Danielle, and Dandin at home - December 2006
Dad buying Jesse's first shoes - January 13, 2007
Jesse, Jake, and Dad at Grandview Hospital - January 25, 2007
Jesse and Dad during his stay at Hospice of Dayton - February 1st, 2007
Superbowl party at Hospice with the Miconi Family - February 4th, 2007
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