Husband, Daddy, Pappaw

Today I write with a heavy heart. I lost my daddy, my daughter’s pappaw, last month. He was always the rock, the one that could beat anything. This time would prove to be different.

My parents live in Kentucky. Life's events led my sister and I both away once we were grown and out of high school. My dad had been a heart patient for over 30 years and was most certainly not in good health at the age of 78. He was always the strong stubborn man that always said nothing would take him easily. In 1984, he was one of the first in the country to have open heart surgery involving six bypasses. The first successful open heart surgery was done only 23 years earlier in 1961, so heart surgery was not as common then as it is today. He was scheduled for a triple bypass, which at that time, was very serious, but more commonplace these days. Once surgery started, they found other blockages but since he was doing so well during surgery, they went ahead and did the other 3 bypasses while they were there. He recovered well. He was only 47 years old.

There were many health scares throughout the years for him, including another open heart surgery in 1998 that involved doing another 3 bypasses. Yes, that is a total of 9 bypasses. We all had grown accustomed to the many hospital stays that he would go through. Somehow I knew, though, that this time, this hospital stay, would be different. I am not sure how or why I knew, I just did.

I received the call on a Saturday morning around 11 a.m. I can’t be completely sure of the timing of what followed, as after hearing my mother’s voice, my world just seemed to stop. She had told me that Daddy was in the hospital and that the doctors had told her to call the kids home, that he was in very critical condition. I could feel the confusion, the fear, and the pain in her voice. This had never happened before. Before the doctors had always said that he would be just fine. They weren't saying that this time.

After hanging up the phone with my mom, I took a few minutes to process what she had just told me and then panic set in. This is where things become more of a blur. I know I called my boyfriend, Greg, who also lives in Kentucky. As it turns out, Mom had just called him too and he was already on his way to the hospital and was only a few minutes away. I had always been one that was strong and could handle anything. Remember, I am the mother of a PID (primary immunodeficiency disease) kid, I am used to sudden illness and health crises, but this time I couldn’t seem to function. My whole body was trembling. My hands were shaking so hard that I kept dropping things as I was trying to pack. I then called my best friends, Fay and Tammie. They immediately came to my rescue. They would stop by and pick up Emily, who was visiting with her dad, so I know that somewhere during those first few moments I must have had the sense to call Emily’s dad too and let him know what was happening, although I don't remember talking with him. He had her ready to go when they arrived to pick her up.

I had managed to get a few things packed and once they arrived at my home with Emily, Fay and Tammie helped me finish getting things together and into the car. By a little after noon, we were pulling out of the driveway. The time span was only a little more than an hour but it seemed like a lifetime.  I will forever be grateful for what those two ladies did for me that day and the days that were to come. I could not ask for better friends than those two ladies are to me.

Normally, it takes about 4 hours to make the drive to Kentucky from my home in Missouri. That day, I made the drive in 3 hours and 15 minutes. During those 3+ hours of driving, so much was going through my mind. At some point during the drive, a light switch went off in my head: we are headed to a hospital in the height of flu season and my daughter has PID. What do I do?!!  What was I thinking? Taking her into that kind of environment is crazy! At this point, all we know about Daddy is that he is critical and they are still working on trying to figure out what exactly is wrong. Greg had been calling me periodically to give me updates, during one of those phone calls I asked him what he thinks I should do about Emily. We both decided that we would leave it up to her as to whether or not she wanted to go into the hospital. She was very adamant about seeing her pappaw. Greg checked with the nurses to see if he could get some surgical masks so that Emily could see her pappaw. The nurses were more than willing to supply them. We decided that when I pulled into the hospital parking lot, I would call him and he would meet us at the door with the masks.

Before that day, I had always erred on the side of caution when it came to Emily visiting someone in the hospital. The risk to her for infection is very high. When she gets sick, it is much more severe than in people with normal immune systems and lasts much longer and can be damaging to her body's organs, but I just couldn’t deprive her of seeing her pappaw. Emily was absolutely determined to see him. She didn’t care if she had to wear a mask, she wanted to see him and that was that.

Emily and Daddy had a very special bond. My daddy, loved all of his grandkids with all his heart. He was so proud of all of them. His face would shine when he would be talking with someone about any one of them. He has five grandkids, but out of the 5, Emily is the youngest and the only girl. She was his “Little Emmy” and always will be. She had him wrapped around her little finger and he had her wrapped around his. Their favorite thing to do, when we were visiting, was to go into town and get Slushies, which somehow always involved getting more than just a Slushy. There always seemed to be sunflower seeds (Emily’s favorite) or gum or candy that came along with the Slushies.

We arrive at the hospital and are met at the door with masks. Emily promptly puts one on and we are headed to Daddy’s room.  We walk in the door to his room and Emily goes right to his side. His eyes brightened and a big smile came to his face and he said: “Hey, there’s my Little Emmy”.  He was so happy to see her as he always was.

The next 3 days were long and hard and really seemed more like a bad dream than reality. No matter what the doctors tried to do, it wouldn’t help. Emily would go and sit with him for several hours each day, always wearing her mask. On the 3rd day in the hospital, Daddy seemed better. He was sitting up slightly and actually ate a little bit. Emily was right there by his side watching the evening news with him, holding his hand. She would hold his cup of water so he could sip through the straw without spilling it.  After Emily went home with Greg for the night, things seem to change with Daddy. I can’t really explain what it was but a very uneasy feeling came over me. I reluctantly left that night to get some rest. We all were functioning on very little sleep. The plan was that I would get some rest and then when I got back, my sister would go get some rest. Mom absolutely refused to leave his side. They had been together for 55 years and she was not about to leave him at all.

Early the next morning, I am up, showered and getting dressed. I receive a text from my sister saying “Come Now!”. Obviously alarmed, I immediately leave and tell Greg that I will call him when I find out what is happening. When I get to the hospital, Daddy was failing. The time was drawing near and I believe Daddy knew it just as much as we did.  Emily and I had already had this discussion and even though she knew it would be hard, she wanted to be there with him when it happened. I call Greg to get her there quickly. While waiting on Emily, we, my mother, my sister and I all have a special moment with Daddy. I thank God that we all had the chance to say our I love you’s and our good bye’s.

I am not sure if anyone else noticed what I am about to tell you other than myself. Daddy was fighting, he was struggling to hold on. After Emily arrived, she went right to his side and held his hand. He turned and looked at her and whispered “I love you Emmy” and she told him she loved him too. They had a moment together and then he kind of drifted off to sleep and within 30 minutes his heart stopped. I truly believe that my Daddy fought and held on until he had a chance to talk to all of his girls, my mother, my sister, myself, and his “Little Emmy”. I truly believe he held on to tell each of us, especially Emily, that he loved us, and then he gave in and went to Heaven.

Emily wanted to be included in all of the arrangements.

She participated in all of the planning, even picking out old pictures to display on a video and posters at the funeral home. Fay, who I mentioned earlier, and her daughter, Addison, who is Emily’s best friend, made the trip to Kentucky to attend the funeral. Addison was another favorite of his. Daddy loved Addison as one of his own and I was so grateful she was there with Emily. During the funeral, Daddy’s brave “Little Emmy”, with Addison by her side, stepped up in front of everyone and read the poem “Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep”. She stood there so bravely, so strongly, just like her pappaw. I was so proud of my little girl and her best friend.

I will never regret the decision I made of allowing Emily to spend those last days with her pappaw, even though it was at a high risk to her own health. Those last days together were more precious than anyone could imagine and I am so happy to have had those moments. There are so many that don't get those moments and I thank God for allowing that time for us. I thank God for allowing the time for my Daddy to be able to tell his Little Emmy that he loved her. Those were the last words she heard from her pappaw and I can't think of anything better.