Chapter One: I learned of my new friend’s illness from his daughter who works in a local business. Her father, 92, was sick and alone except for the company of his puppy and would appreciate a visit sometime. He then was not incapacitated but was slow in moving about. Yes, he could answer the door if a visitor appeared but call first. So my friend and I did. He was a total stranger but talking with him revealed some common interests, and the visit lasted longer than expected. He was a proud US Navy veteran and most of his later life was spent climbing trees, a tree surgeon he said, an appropriate identification of the dangerous job he performed. He recalled how the work had changed greatly from earlier mostly brute force labor to today’s lifts (buckets) and equipment which made accessibility to arboreal problems easier and safer. The “real work” had been removed he believed. And he mentioned his interest in his church and his participation in its work, limited by then. One attribute he was proud of: he could be depended on, a trait that followed him all his life.
Chapter Two: Hospice entered his life as his health rapidly declined, now bedridden and a ‘hostage’ to various necessary medical devices. His caregivers were loyal and provided for his end-of-life care with regular visits and were available on call anytime. My last visit with him was difficult for all parties. By now he had difficulty breathing and was obviously uncomfortable if not in pain and with visible stress. His principal caregiver, not trained to administer the professional care he required nevertheless was constantly at his bedside responding to his regular, demanding needs. But it was finally goodbye even though at the time no one knew it was to be more immediate than then realized. Hospice offered respite care which was refused by the family since it felt that his home is where The Maker should be met when the first day of forever began.
Chapter Three: His friends gathered to remember and to say farewell to the good neighbor and fellow believer who lived just across the street from the church. Appropriately, the American flag was draped across the casket, a reminder of his youth and his service to his country. On the front of the bulletin given to mourners was a photograph of a uniformed, young, handsome ‘boy’ whose long life was the object of the somber celebration.
Most people are reluctant to express relief at the death of a friend no matter his desperation and rightly so. But witnessing his worsening condition, hearing his gasps as he fought to breathe, to live and to know that there was no medical intervention available for one whose life was slowing and inevitably ebbing away, the most merciful option one could envision and reluctantly accept was the only one available.
Rest in peace.
Bill Lee, PO Box 128,
Hamer, SC 29547
