As the family sat around talking small talk, I could not focus on anything, except that My Dad was lying somewhere in a place between life and death, in the same room in which we sat.
If the chair next to his bed was not taken I took it, at times being asked to give it to someone else, at times asking if someone else wanted to take my place.
I sang to him the songs I only sing, in the car, alone ... knowing in my heart that one day these songs of old ... songs of a previous generation ... would be sung for my Father ... never thinking or dreaming it would be as he lay waiting for the Lord to come and take him home.
I sang quietly to him, as if we were the only two in the room, trying to keep my voice steady, not crying. He didn't like it when I cried. He wanted me to be strong.
At times, I knew someone was singing with me, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, there's just something about that name" ... never knowing who, never looking anywhere but at my Daddy. Holding gently his hand, as occasionally he would mouth the words with me, never opening his eyes ...
Feeling with such great love and emotion that my Dad was going to a better place, but the place he was leaving from, would be worse for me without him.
Thinking a great void would open up in my heart and swallow me whole.
His words echoed in my mind, that he was ready to go, he had lived his life, he had finished the race and he was ready for his crown of righteousness. He explained to me long ago, that I was being selfish because I did not want him ever to die. He, as always, was right. I do not regret my selfishness in this area. But I did have to tell him, and this time I could not help myself from crying, that he was right, I am selfish, but that I would let him go, whenever he was ready.
More singing, "Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound" everyone singing now. Gathered around him, singing old hymns ... His mouth was moving, as if he were singing with us, rejoicing in the Lord, occasionally a sound, right on queue would be uttered from his mouth ... a deep throaty sound ... but purposeful and not an involuntary response. A real response from the one who was loved most by all the people in the room, to the one he loved most, the Lord.
Singing, singing, singing, "When we all get to heaven ... ", "The King is Coming", "Beulah Land", "This is the Day the Lord hath Made" ... praying, reading the Word of God to him.
Leaving the room to let him rest quietly for a few minutes.
Only to return, finding that he had left the room quietly himself ...
Dad and His Boys
