My Dad Died Today
June 7th, 2011 § 6 Comments
My dad died today.
It’s weird to write that sentence. My parents split when I was six so my dad and I didn’t have a normal father/son relationship. My dad stayed in Minnesota and my mom, my brother and I moved back to our home in Texas. This great, geographic gulf that then separated us got in the way of a normal relationship.
My dad tried, in his own way, to stay connected. We’d see him about twice a year, either he coming to see us or us going to see him. We’d also talk to him on the phone weekly. Still, twice a year isn’t much where a relationship is concerned. I guess my dad did much better than his dad before him. My grandfather abandoned his wife and sons and made no effort at all to stay connected.
I imagine that it would have been easier for my dad to follow in his dad’s footsteps and walk away entirely. But he didn’t and for that I am grateful.
Over the past few years, my dad’s physical and mental health have declined precipitously. It’s been kind of shocking to witness as my dad was once a big strapping guy. In fact, he was the first round draft choice for the 1959 Los Angeles Rams and played in the NFL for 13 seasons including playing in Superbowl IV.
To see him go from a big 6’5”, 250 pound defensive lineman to a hobbled old man hasn’t been pretty. In fact, I don’t doubt his old football injuries contributed to his death. The past couple of years have been painful to watch, even from a distance.
I was talking with a pastor friend of mine yesterday. I told him that so often when a loved one dies, we hear of people asking “God, why did you take my loved one?” I felt bad that as I got calls informing me that my dad was in the hospital or in a restorative care facility once again, that my question to God was “God, why haven’t you taken my loved one?”
Years ago, I tried to have that conversation that adult kids have with their aging parents about end of life care. My dad wouldn’t talk about it except to say, “I’ll never go to a nursing home. I’ll kill myself first.” In fact, in spite of my professional experience with death and explaining that we don’t often get to make that choice he wouldn’t budge and talk about what he wanted us to do for him at the end of his life.
I explained this conversation to one of his caregivers today and she mentioned that she thought my dad might have been refusing to eat as a way to hasten his death. She mentioned that on a recent visit that my dad said to her “If I don’t eat, I’m going to die.” Whatever his thoughts were in these past months, I am glad that his body is now free from pain and that he is at rest.
My brother had flown to Minnesota this week to help my dad transition to an assisted-living facility. He went to visit my dad and when he arrived was told by the nurses that my dad didn’t have long, in fact they thought he’d pass within minutes. My brother hurriedly called me and gave me the bad news. He then held the phone up to my dad’s ear. I told my dad that I loved him. That I cared for him and was thinking about him and praying for him. Only seconds after I said these words, my dad breathed his last and died.
My brother then told me that he was profoundly glad that he got to be there when our dad died. I guess that his final moments, surrounded by his family, were about the best way you can expect to leave this life.
I am sad that we didn’t get more time with him. I am also sad that we never got to have a normal father/son relationship. In spite of this, I don’t doubt that my dad loved me.
May he find peace in death.
That’s a very sweet send off for him. I’m sure he was very proud of you and what you have become!!!
Thanks for the kind words.
I’m so sorry for your loss, Scott. May your dad rest in peace. How comforted he must have been in his final moments to hear your kind words, and to have your brother at his side. May the fond memories you have help you through these difficult days, weeks, and months to come.
Thank you for the kind thoughts.
You’re PD family’s thoughts and prayers are with you, Scott. May you always remember the laughter and good times.
[...] a year ago, I lost my dad. My dad was Paul Dickson who started his career in the NFL as a first round draft [...]