02-02-2011, 01:32 PM
As some of you already know, my father has been battling Chronic lymphocytic leukemia (CLL) for about 10 years. On Jan 23rd he ended his battle and passed on to whatever the Lord has for him now. As we all know there are things worse than death, and for my father, only 72, not being able to do the things he wanted along with more frequent and longer visits to the hospital were his thorns over this past year.
During his last one week visit to the hospital, his oncologist told me that my dad would not get well enough to get any more chemotherapy and that my dad was already aware that this was a possibility. He suggested we contact hospice and take Dad home. He had been in the hospital with pneumonia and I took him home on January 20th and contacted hospice and a home health care company. When we got home my father seemed to know he would not get better. He asked me to please not take him back to the hospital and that he was tired and ready to go. I honored his wishes.
Dad got worse over Friday and Saturday and by Saturday night had ceased to talk other than the occasional grunt letting us know that he understood what we were saying. During this period I stayed with him and got the opportunity to tell him how much he meant to me as a father, how fortunate both I and - as a result of his parenting - my own children were to have had his influence and many other things. Dad died Sunday night around 8pm with myself, sister and brother, at his bedside in his own house. The pneumonia had returned and thankful taken him quickly. He was on a morphine pump and I believe he was not in much pain.
My father had spent 37 years as a fireman in Nashville. He had retired as a Captain and my older brother is now a District Fire Chief. Dad was honored by having 400-500 visitors during his visitation and was buried with full Fire Dept honors which included pallbearers and an honor guard. I contracted with a musician to play the bagpipes at the grave site. He was buried in a small cemetery on a hillside in the country - his favorite place to be.
Dad was a quiet man but was the kind that when he spoke, people listened. I had dozens of his firefighting family tell me that they never heard him raise his voice, but for some reason when he said something needed to be done, you just got up and did it without question. Once in September of 1990, dad - then a Captain - responded to a large fire in the projects. Three boys had been playing with a lighter and started the fire. Two guys had run out but the youngest, who has afraid he was in trouble, hid in the apartment. Three firefighters had tried on 2 occasions to find the unconscious boy but were unsuccessful. With the building nearly fully engaged, Dad entered the building and eventually exited with the child who survived after 5 days in a coma. The photo taken by the local paper was what you see in Life, fireman running with small child and hysterical mother right behind him.
Dad was awarded the Department's Silver Star for bravey and was honored as firefighter of the year - my brother accepted the award on his behalf at a yearly Department gathering. My father never cared for such recognition, stating that he was simply doing his job. A former Nashville Mayor informed me at the visitation, that only 5 other firemen had ever received this award.
I realize that I am bragging on a man who would not want this, but I just want to honor his accomplishments and his memory. His influence with go with me the rest of my life, I was always treasure my memories of him, and although I believe he walks with me daily, I will forever miss his guidance, love, friendship, and his company.
Ernie
During his last one week visit to the hospital, his oncologist told me that my dad would not get well enough to get any more chemotherapy and that my dad was already aware that this was a possibility. He suggested we contact hospice and take Dad home. He had been in the hospital with pneumonia and I took him home on January 20th and contacted hospice and a home health care company. When we got home my father seemed to know he would not get better. He asked me to please not take him back to the hospital and that he was tired and ready to go. I honored his wishes.
Dad got worse over Friday and Saturday and by Saturday night had ceased to talk other than the occasional grunt letting us know that he understood what we were saying. During this period I stayed with him and got the opportunity to tell him how much he meant to me as a father, how fortunate both I and - as a result of his parenting - my own children were to have had his influence and many other things. Dad died Sunday night around 8pm with myself, sister and brother, at his bedside in his own house. The pneumonia had returned and thankful taken him quickly. He was on a morphine pump and I believe he was not in much pain.
My father had spent 37 years as a fireman in Nashville. He had retired as a Captain and my older brother is now a District Fire Chief. Dad was honored by having 400-500 visitors during his visitation and was buried with full Fire Dept honors which included pallbearers and an honor guard. I contracted with a musician to play the bagpipes at the grave site. He was buried in a small cemetery on a hillside in the country - his favorite place to be.
Dad was a quiet man but was the kind that when he spoke, people listened. I had dozens of his firefighting family tell me that they never heard him raise his voice, but for some reason when he said something needed to be done, you just got up and did it without question. Once in September of 1990, dad - then a Captain - responded to a large fire in the projects. Three boys had been playing with a lighter and started the fire. Two guys had run out but the youngest, who has afraid he was in trouble, hid in the apartment. Three firefighters had tried on 2 occasions to find the unconscious boy but were unsuccessful. With the building nearly fully engaged, Dad entered the building and eventually exited with the child who survived after 5 days in a coma. The photo taken by the local paper was what you see in Life, fireman running with small child and hysterical mother right behind him.
Dad was awarded the Department's Silver Star for bravey and was honored as firefighter of the year - my brother accepted the award on his behalf at a yearly Department gathering. My father never cared for such recognition, stating that he was simply doing his job. A former Nashville Mayor informed me at the visitation, that only 5 other firemen had ever received this award.
I realize that I am bragging on a man who would not want this, but I just want to honor his accomplishments and his memory. His influence with go with me the rest of my life, I was always treasure my memories of him, and although I believe he walks with me daily, I will forever miss his guidance, love, friendship, and his company.
Ernie