Wednesday, November 10, 2004
MAY 14TH COMES WITH SORROW....1983
You just never know what a day will bring. We had a very normal day the 14th of May this year, (1983) with the normal kind of stuff going on. It was cold and rainy so I spent the day indoors, busily cleaning and cooking. The day was over and we were well into the evening when an ambulance came down our road. We watched it turn into our neighbor’s driveway and attendant’s go up to the door…..then they all headed for the garage.
We went over, fearing Floyd Thomas, who had a series of heart problems might be the reason for the ambulance. Other neighbors came to see if they could be of assistance and we learned that Floyd had suffered a fatal heart attack and died in the garage. Ruth, his wife, had an asthma attack and had to be taken to the hospital for that, high blood pressure and shock. Their elder daughter had come home from Illinois to see the younger daughter graduate from high school. It was an unthinkable tragedy for the family.
What was supposed to be a happy occasion for them turned into a nightmare they couldn’t have imagined earlier in the day. In reading my journal of the events that took place, it put me to thinking how quickly a day can change. Even though I am along in years and have been exposed to death in many ways; members of our family, friends and even contemplating my own…death still comes as a surprise. It is amazing to me how you can visit with a loved one…walk in the kitchen and come back to find them “gone.”
That is exactly what happened to my aunt Beulah, Dale’s mother. She had just spoken to uncle Ted….went to the kitchen to put dinner on the table, and when he didn’t come, she returned to find him dead in his chair. The same thing happened with my dad, with whom I’d had coffee, along with a visit….told him goodbye and came home. Fifteen minutes later he was dead. The thing that haunted my aunt Beulah and my mother was the fact they didn’t get to “tell them goodbye.” In my dad’s case, I had that privilege.
I have a friend who tells me the last thing she says on the phone, in a letter or in person is…….“I love you.” She wants that to be the last thing they remember her saying. If we could choose “that one last thing to say”….what would it be? A neighbor who used to live by us in Shawnee was a nurse and had seen many patients die. She said those who had a faith always died a peaceful death, with love on their lips when they could speak….and in their eyes if they are unable to speak. For others, without a faith, it was far different. They died screaming and asking the doctor to “save them” or cursing because they are dying and they knew it. For them, there was no hope of tomorrow. I’m sure there are exceptions here and there but for the most part I believe her. After all, she was a professional on those “death watches.”
Death is not an option, but how we live, is. We are the results of past and present choices. I was always a fan of Cary Grant’s. His last words were reported to have been, “I’ve never died before….I hope I do it well.“ I think that is the hope of all of us. The future looms uncertain before us but that doesn’t matter…we have today to manage the words we say. Let’s try to make them count.
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
We went over, fearing Floyd Thomas, who had a series of heart problems might be the reason for the ambulance. Other neighbors came to see if they could be of assistance and we learned that Floyd had suffered a fatal heart attack and died in the garage. Ruth, his wife, had an asthma attack and had to be taken to the hospital for that, high blood pressure and shock. Their elder daughter had come home from Illinois to see the younger daughter graduate from high school. It was an unthinkable tragedy for the family.
What was supposed to be a happy occasion for them turned into a nightmare they couldn’t have imagined earlier in the day. In reading my journal of the events that took place, it put me to thinking how quickly a day can change. Even though I am along in years and have been exposed to death in many ways; members of our family, friends and even contemplating my own…death still comes as a surprise. It is amazing to me how you can visit with a loved one…walk in the kitchen and come back to find them “gone.”
That is exactly what happened to my aunt Beulah, Dale’s mother. She had just spoken to uncle Ted….went to the kitchen to put dinner on the table, and when he didn’t come, she returned to find him dead in his chair. The same thing happened with my dad, with whom I’d had coffee, along with a visit….told him goodbye and came home. Fifteen minutes later he was dead. The thing that haunted my aunt Beulah and my mother was the fact they didn’t get to “tell them goodbye.” In my dad’s case, I had that privilege.
I have a friend who tells me the last thing she says on the phone, in a letter or in person is…….“I love you.” She wants that to be the last thing they remember her saying. If we could choose “that one last thing to say”….what would it be? A neighbor who used to live by us in Shawnee was a nurse and had seen many patients die. She said those who had a faith always died a peaceful death, with love on their lips when they could speak….and in their eyes if they are unable to speak. For others, without a faith, it was far different. They died screaming and asking the doctor to “save them” or cursing because they are dying and they knew it. For them, there was no hope of tomorrow. I’m sure there are exceptions here and there but for the most part I believe her. After all, she was a professional on those “death watches.”
Death is not an option, but how we live, is. We are the results of past and present choices. I was always a fan of Cary Grant’s. His last words were reported to have been, “I’ve never died before….I hope I do it well.“ I think that is the hope of all of us. The future looms uncertain before us but that doesn’t matter…we have today to manage the words we say. Let’s try to make them count.
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
