After years of working so hard to provide for his family and giving to others, sweet Pop's heart and lungs were just worn out. A combination of issues related to emphysema, asbestosis from coal mining, congestive heart failure, damage from years of cigarette use had damaged his lungs and heart beyond repair. The few months prior had also included family stress and hurt that we all believe contributed to his physical decline, though none of us were prepared for the prognosis received that day.
I gave James time to share those moments with his family before bringing Isaac, Abigail, and Elijah over. The mood was serious and we livened it up a little bit, though the kids knew the basics of the situation. We all hoped for a few days at least, since there just had been no warning that he was suffering so greatly. Pop and Granny both wanted us there, and as he reclined in his chair and we visited, he asked often where the kids were and what they were doing, as they played around the house. His usually strong voice was raspy and weaker than normal, calling, "Where are the babies?" I loved when he called them all that. Within a few hours, it became softer, and then, very faint. Before we left that evening, we all had time to hug him, and the kids did too, telling him how much we loved him. He responded to every one of us. He asked for me specifically, and I leaned in to kiss his scruffy cheek, and he said, "I love you, doll." That was a special expression for only the girls who were closest to him. It was my favorite. He squeezed my hand in his big ol' knuckly hand. I cried and said I would see him in the morning.
We slept as well as we could that night at home, though James stayed with his family there. The next morning I made plans to have the children taken care of by friends so I could go back over, and James told me it had been a stable night, but Pop hadn't spoken anymore after we left. We visited quietly as more family came, the hospice nurse shared info with us, and we just waited. That afternoon, it became obvious that the doctor's estimate had been generous. We knew there wouldn't be even a couple of days left.
I don't know if you've ever been with a loved one in their last hours. I am sad that I know some of you have. To watch Pop's complexion actually change, and his breathing to slow gradually, and his life to just drift out of him was a very poignant experience. The physical signs probably helped us see that he was leaving us, but it also was heart-wrenching. Though I dreaded seeing him looking so unlike himself, I am grateful I could be there, witnessing that transition and seeing him peacefully sleep until he was gone.
One of the most beautiful parts of that day, because there was beauty despite the pain, was when Pop's sweet niece came over with his sister. Angel asked if she would sing a favorite hymn, Peace in the Valley. Hearing that precious, pure voice he loved sing right there in the living room was moving and a wonderful tribute to Pop. He officially was gone from this life right at 3:30 pm. Someone later pointed out that was quitting time at the mines, and it was so fitting that Pop was "off duty" right after he'd put in his day's work. For anyone who knew him, and his responsible, committed work ethic, that was a detail that made us smile.
Two years later, I can hardly believe how much we feel his vacancy in our lives. I wore one of his flannel shirts today. It feels like him, but doesn't smell like him anymore. No phone calls from him to check in on us. No funny commentary on the latest national news. No more jet black, styled-with-Vaseline hair. No more "Pass me the cornbread - just hand me a piece!" Oh, he was so much fun! So tender with little children, doting on his wife, loving with animals, loyal to friends, and so strong and tough in the right ways.
He had also been a master electrician and during times of strike at the mines, would do electrical work, or odd jobs, to keep the family fed and bills paid. Many folks hired him to do wiring, or yard clean up, or bought the fish he'd caught, etc. Nothing was beneath him, though he had skills and experience that could've made him prideful. He was willing to do whatever it took to be the provider for his family. What a wonderful example, and it's no wonder James is the kind of provider he is.
Pop grew up when folks didn't treat each other equally, based on skin color. Though he had examples of hatred all around him, I always admired and loved the fact that he grew up to be dear friends with a man with much darker skin than himself. He talked and visited with Jim often, and several other men served alongside Jim as pallbearers and were there to support the family at the funeral and days to come, based on their long term friendship with Pop. Besides working in the mines with these men, he did electrical, and other, jobs for many African American families over dozens of years, sometimes without pay, and without complaint. It was good to help folks in need, no matter their race, and he chose to do the right thing. He still struggled with how to reconcile what he'd been taught as a child and how to overcome that prejudice in his language at times. He wasn't afraid to challenge popular divisions in their community, or even his own personal leanings. It takes a strong person to do that, I think. What a testimony of loving others as himself.
James just finished a large building project, redoing the deck on our house. A hundred times during that job, I kept thinking how much Pop would've loved to be there, seeing our kids all hammer nails into scrap wood alongside James. He was the one to teach the older three how to hammer and that is a sweet memory. The fact that he never met Owen Thomas is one of my main regrets in life. He would love this little boy who is so like him, and bears his name; a people person, quick with a smile, and already such a hard worker. I imagine his deep chuckle and just know he'd say, "Look at that boy, Nancy! Woo, I tell ya, he is something else!" I mourn that we have to wait a lifetime to see them together.
I am so grateful that for 17 years I was able to share many moments with such a dear person, and that he knew I loved him deeply. I long for the day our family will be together again. Thank you, Lord, for blessing me with such a father for my husband, and example for us all!
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| i love this adoring look from isaac |
Here are a few favorite photos, showing him just being the best Pop ever.
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| fishing with abigail |
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| meeting elijah |
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