In a day or two, many things can change. My dear dad dies on Sunday (Vancouver time). He has a peaceful and quiet passing into the Presence of God. Within a few hours of reaching the hospital, he's transitioned to his heavenly home. As a family, we are grateful to God that he can experience and see what he believed and taught us. What hope we have in our God.
Friends send Christmas treats, which we receive with thanks in a week that changes our lives forever.
Monday, December 14, 2020
It's night here in Indonesia, while it's Sunday morning Vancouver time. Mom calls me on her Saturday evening, worrying about Dad, who hasn't felt good, can't eat, and is sleeping a lot.
"I'm at peace," she tells me. "Whatever happens. I feel God's peace."
We pray together and hang up. She goes to sleep as I go about my day, praying over Mom and Dad. During the night (here), there are 2 more video calls with Mom and my brother. The first is that Dad's being taken to hospital in an ambulance. The second is that the news is not good: the doctors says it's just matter of time, because Dad's body is shutting down.
"Come here if you want to say goodbye," they tell Norm and Mom. So they do.
Norm calls each sibling from the emergency room, giving us a chance to say to Dad, "I love you" and "godspeed." He's already not responding but we hope he feels the love in our voices.
I stay awake for a few hours, checking my phone every time it pings. Finally, I flip on the light and write down my hopes for the night in my journal. I add what I remember from recent conversations with my parents.
I fall asleep at 1:30am, not knowing if he'll survive the night. When I wake a few hours later, the first message says that Dad's slipped away. My first instinct is to praise God that he didn't suffer long. The next is concern for our mother.
It's my turn to do the BICOnline video this morning [click here to watch it.] Only a few hours have passed since Dad left. But I get to celebrate him and talk about the hope he taught us as followers of Jesus. How cool is that?! For us, death means a joyful home-going, into God's presence. Now we have one more beloved person waiting to welcome the next one to the other side.
I've always felt homesick for God and heaven. For me, the transition of death holds great anticipation, not dread or fear. That's been true since the first funeral I remember attending, standing beside my grandmother. Was I five years old at the time? I cried with envy because the person who had died was with Jesus. Why did I have to stay back?
Grandma was fiercely blowing her nose with a hanky. When I asked why she was crying, she said the same thing I was feeling: Bald, Kind, bald gehen wir Nachhause! ("Soon, child, soon we're going Home.") I feel really lucky to share her hope and that strong pull toward eternity all my life.
I call each of our kids. They will sure miss their grandpa. They were his joy and what he looked forward to. When they were little, he used to say with a grin, "Well, we love you kids, but we're really more interested in the grandkids." It was probably true. He used to pick up the grands for a day at their house, alternating boys' and girls' Saturdays when we all lived in the same town.
When we moved hours away, he would drive down to take a (homeschooled) child to their place for a week or two of undivided attention and skill-building (whether woodwork with Dad or cooking with Mom.) Talk about spoiling the grandkids. They'd be prince or princess for the week.
I've always thought that arranging a funeral is something like planning a wedding ... in a week. There are many details to decide. Norm, the brother who lives in our hometown, is coordinating everything. The rest of us are confident that all will be well in Norm's hands.
Talking with my brothers in Europe and Canada reminds me of Dad's legacy of love and logic. There's no screaming, fainting, or other hysterics among us. Instead, we exchange a lot of humor to lighten the heaviness of grief. We remember funny parts of conversations and how we were loved by our father. He encouraged us with "Of course you can!" any time we asked him about facing a challenge.
With Canadian COVID restrictions, only 10 people can gather in one place, inside or outside. The memorial will be small but we can livestream. We need written permission from every venue before we can step outside our quarantine house. Norm take the lead as we work through what needs to be done. We contact Mom and the others when we have questions. What about the funeral home? The church. The graveside. Order of burial and service. Participants. Documents. Obituary. Slide show. (The techie grandkids are happy to do this. Dad digitized a lot of his photos and sent them to everyone in the past few years. Thanks, Pop!)
Of course we're crying, too - sometimes together, but mostly on our own in those sweet moments when we remember the wonderful man he was. It was my honor to be his "favorite daughter." He often joked about that to me, with love in his voice. Mind you, I'm his only daughter among three brothers so that was a no-brainer. It was still nice to hear it and his teasing tone. I'll miss him. (That's me on the left with 2 of 3 brothers.)
Mom says how heartening it is to receive the flood of messages and condolences that pour in. We'll read through the FB posts and other social media later. Dad's kindness, love for God, care for others, his humor, and perpetual "You CAN do it!" ring through the conversations. He was a booster of imagination and dreams, that's for sure.
Tuesday
Preparations continue. We converse via phone, text, and video. My friends ask how it's going for Mom and for us. Most can't imagine the peaceful discussions, humor, and free exchanges of ideas as we make decisions. That's Dad's legacy also. He refused to plan a funeral. "I trust you. Do whatever you want," he would say. We plan what we hope honors him and provides a sweet farewell for Mom, our families, and their friends.
This morning, W and I walk the neighborhood. Feels good to get out. I skip Sunday walks (lazing around the house). Then yesterday, I was busy with family and friends. I'm a lousy walker - I will rarely walk if I don't get to it first thing. We're preparing the end-of-year talks for BICOnline, so besides recording videos, W is tied up with editing.
But we make time for a pause. W and I eat a breakfast bubur ayam (chicken rice porridge) at Nara/Pino, after locking the dogs in our office. The Nara staff and Agus our server look after us even more than usual - we love these young people, who make everyone feel at home with their kind attention.
Read more:
*When your judgments come upon the earth, the people of the world learn righteousness. Isaiah 26:9
*The glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken. Isaiah 40:5
*In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary.
The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”
Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be.
But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.” Luke 1:26-33 NIV
*We have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. John 1:14
*He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness. 2 Corinthians 9:10
Moravian Prayer: Lord, freely have you given to us and freely may we bring your story of the good news to those who live in darkness and long to be free.
Glorious heavenly Father, your unrelenting revelation calls to us, cries to us, sings with us, and speaks to us through all of life’s experiences. In the chaos of earthly life, your glory is seen, recognized, and honored. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment