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He did “…far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us.”
Ephesians 3:20 ESV
The kids had been good about getting me out of the room every day during the last days of Mike’s life. On the Saturday before Father’s Day, we went to enjoy the beach and dinner to celebrate our son’s birthday.
The next day I entered Mike’s hospital room with a card, cheerfully proclaiming, “Happy Father’s Day,” only to be met with silence. I shook his hand gently. He was still breathing but not responding.
A few minutes later, the children and grandchildren crowded into the room with cards, presents, hand-drawn pictures, and “Happy Father’s Day” wishes. Still no response from Papa.
No final words from him. Just one-way conversations as I encouraged him, told him of my love for him and that it was ok to leave for heaven.
I wondered during the rest of the week of watching and waiting if his unconsciousness was due to the pain medicine he had recently begun to take. But before I even asked, the doctor assured me that the medicine didn’t cause him to be unconscious, but that he was preparing for heaven and was closer there than here.
During the first year after I lost Mike I had unconsciously tucked away the sadness of that Father’s Day. Suddenly I remembered that a nurse had told me always to say goodbye when I left the room because even in a state of unconsciousness a patient could hear.
Now that hidden sadness was gone, and my heart felt light. What a sweet gift from the Lord. However, He wasn’t finished giving.
I also found out a few weeks later that while we had gone to the beach and dinner, one of our friends had come by to visit. He and Mike had had a great time, sharing the Lord (and probably sports!), and he had been surprised how Mike had gripped his hand. When I told him that he was probably the last person on earth to speak with Mike, he said that he had noticed how he had seemed to be fading in and out.
How sweet of the Lord to let me know someone was there with Mike as he was in the final stages of his life on earth! Come to think of it, he wasn’t alone in his final hours either. I had asked the Lord to let me be with Mike as he passed from this life, and He granted my request.
The next Saturday evening, June 22, 2013, I mentioned to my brother and sister-in-law in the room with me that Mike’s breathing was slowing down. My sister-in-law went to get the nurse. As I waited and held Mike’s hand, he took a breath, and after what seemed like forever, another one. Then he took his last breath.
“The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”
(Job 1:21 ESV)
Peacefully–quietly he was gone. Two nurses came in to cover his body with a large American flag.
Four years later as I think of my husband, I remember he taught me not only how to live but also how to die.
Thank You, Lord, for promising never to leave us or forsake us, for comforting and reminding me that nothing can separate us from Your love and for doing above all I could ask or imagine.
My heart has chosen to say with Job, “Blessed be Your Name.”