A Father’s Final Act Of Grace
I remember distinctly where I was the moment my father died. I was 30,000 feet in the air, somewhere over Western Mississippi or Eastern Arkansas. I was in a deep sleep due to overwork and stress from my father’s rapidly deteriorating condition. It had been a rough two days; trying to decide what to do, and when to do it. Dad had been sick for a very long time. Emphysema does that to a person; it takes you slowly, not in one fell swoop. I had been in contact with my family as his condition waned in those final days. Finally, my sister told me, “You’d better come if you want to say goodbye.”
I left North Carolina for El Paso during the late afternoon. It was the end of October, so daylight disappeared quickly. It was dusk when we took off, and the darkness chased us all the way to West Texas. I had gathered my things quickly when I was preparing for my trip, and on the plane I was doing a mental checklist to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. More work for an already overtaxed mind. I remember packing my suit and thinking what a morbid action that was. Was I a pessimist? Dad is going to die? Or was I an optimist? I’ll take it just in case, even though I know I won’t need it? I think I was a realist; after more than 10 years of fighting this affliction, Dad had given up the fight. The suit would have to be worn.
Mom and Dad had celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary only a month before. We were able to make that trip home to help them celebrate. I remember Dad seeming a little detached, almost as if he was savoring a long term goal that had been met. He was happy and smiling, as much as he could be, while fighting for breath, yet I could sense an undercurrent. I didn’t know it at the time, but I believe what he was feeling was accomplishment, and closure. Accomplishment for reaching this admirable milestone; and closure in that his journey was coming to an end.
He had fought so hard, for so long, that I believe that he was ready to go. It had just become too tiresome; the dread of knowing that a walk to the bathroom would leave him physically spent. The self-reproach of having to be waited on hand and foot by my Mother. The realization that each day became harder; less livable. It’s one thing to fight everyday to improve your life, knowing that you control your destiny; it is quite another to die a little each and every day knowing that there is nothing that you can do about it, and that the family that you hold so dear can only sit there and watch.
I bolted upright at 8:02pm, on October 26, 2002, startling the person next to me on the airplane. When I awoke, it was as if I had not been asleep at all. No cobwebs, no feeling of tiredness, just a feeling of total and complete peace. The last time I had felt that way was back in childhood before the worries of real life and responsibility had come. I can’t really describe it adequately; it wasn’t a feeling of joy, certainly not sadness, just a feeling of…lucidity. The worries and troubles of a job that I loathed were gone. So too, were the feelings of angst and sorrow for my dying Father. For in that moment, I knew why I had awoken, and I knew who had awoken me. While asleep, I had been dreaming of my Dad. I remember that in my dream I kept trying to convince him to keep fighting, that I was almost home. Just wait for me Pop. I remember him smiling that calm, reassuring smile of his as if to say; it’s alright, you’re already home.
As I gazed out the window of the airplane, I could see the sun setting to the west, like a giant ball about to roll off of a table. We were flying well above the clouds, and I noticed something I had never seen before. The tops of the clouds were completely flat; smooth as glass. There wasn’t a ripple, break or crease to be seen. It was as if I was looking at the floor of Heaven. I have never seen anything like it before or since. I researched trying to find out why the clouds would look that way, but came up empty. The rays of the sun were splashing off of the cloud tops in a way that made the entire sky look and feel like it was on fire. The brightness not overwhelming, and the sight nothing short of astounding. I knew in that moment that my Father was saying goodbye to me, and that this was his fond farewell. The show outside the airplane was exclusively for me; no one else even noticed. Or, perhaps, it wasn’t there for them to see.
I met my brother and sister curbside at the airport. As I climbed into the backseat I asked them how Dad was doing. My brother and sister turned around, and through tears my brother said, “You didn’t make it in time, I’m sorry.” I was emotionally spent, and immediately lost it. After trying so hard to get home in time, I had failed. After a few seconds of selfish weeping, I realized; I had made it in time. I asked my sister what time Dad had died. She said it was a couple of minutes after six, their time. That would make it almost exactly 8:02pm on my watch. The full realization of what had happened hit me at that moment, and instead of a feeling of sorrow, I was filled with joy; for I knew that I WAS with Dad when he passed, I just wasn’t at his bedside. He did that for me. And I will be forever indebted to him for it. Thanks, Pop.
(Update: July 1st, 2008) Mr. Lady at Whiskey In My Sippy Cup has awarded me the “Perfect Post” award for this tribute. Thank you, Mr. Lady, I am truly humbled.
Thanks also to Lindsay at Suburban Turmoil and Kimberly at Petroville.
Mr Lady
Dude, I love you. In a blotonic way, but still…you do beautiful very well.
I’ll spare your comments box today and leave my comment on my own blog.
Happy Fathers Day to you and your dad. All my best!
Mr Ladys last blog post..T Minus 4 and Counting
Jun 15, 2008 @ 1:05 am
Father's Day '08 A Ghost Story
[...] then, what should pop into my reader but NukeDad’s tear-jerking, touching, beautiful eulogy to his father. Seriously, if you don’t read Nuclear Warhead Family, just stop reading this right now and [...]
Jun 15, 2008 @ 3:48 am
Xbox4NappyRash
Beautifully written.
Happy father’s day to you.
Xbox4NappyRashs last blog post..A nation coming together…
Jun 15, 2008 @ 6:14 am
traci
What a beautifully written story. Happy Fathers Day to you.
tracis last blog post..They’ve got the it factor?
Jun 15, 2008 @ 7:37 am
Kelley
Thankyou so much for sharing such a deeply personal and beautiful story.
Kelleys last blog post..Damn life.
Jun 15, 2008 @ 8:07 am
Big Sis
Thank you and I love you.
Jun 15, 2008 @ 8:08 am
HRH
This is absolutely beautiful in every way.
HRHs last blog post..Paparazzi at the pool…
Jun 15, 2008 @ 9:15 am
tressa
OM Goodness… What a tear jerking beautiful post….. I am sorry for your loss, but am glad you were “there”.
tressas last blog post..The Love Boat… Part deux…
Jun 15, 2008 @ 9:34 am
Carole
WOW! I am so sorry for the loss of your dad. A very touching story. Thank you & Happy Father’s Day to you.
Jun 15, 2008 @ 10:44 am
Huckdoll
Oh my gosh, Nukedad….that was just beautiful. Other than that, I’m speechless. Kudos.
Happy Father’s Day.
Huckdolls last blog post..Wrath
Jun 15, 2008 @ 11:12 am
Zoeyjane
This may be the only father’s day post i’m willing to read today, for personal reasons surrounding my own dad’s death. But, it was so worth the tears coursing down my cheeks. Beautiful.
Zoeyjanes last blog post..Vote. Now. Please.
Jun 15, 2008 @ 11:28 am
Sue
Gee… You made me cry and smile at the same time.
*hugs*
Happy Father’s Day
Sues last blog post..T’is I, The Sue
Jun 15, 2008 @ 12:06 pm
tom
Thank you so much for sharing with us. That was awesome in the truest sense of the word. I’m so glad you were able to have one last connection with your dad as he passed. Wonderful post, a wonderful tribute to your father. Happy Father’s day!
Jun 15, 2008 @ 12:12 pm
Melisa
Speechless. That’s me. And that’s not normal for me. You, my friend, are a wonderful writer. The love for your father just oozed through that post and I felt it through the monitor.
I hope you enjoy this day with your family! I’m also, like Mr. Lady, sending you some blotonic bloggie love!
Melisas last blog post..Happy Day, Daddios!
Jun 15, 2008 @ 12:24 pm
Big Brother
Thank You my Brother for such a great tribute to POP. May this day bring you great joy as we celebrate the short time that we were able to spend with such a terrific man. I love you.
Jun 15, 2008 @ 1:13 pm
matt
Wow…cold chills, man. Really great stuff. Glad I found your blog.
matts last blog post..Happy Fathers Day, Dad!
Jun 15, 2008 @ 5:16 pm
Secret Agent Mama
Wow, what a tribute. I’m speechless, really.
Jun 15, 2008 @ 8:06 pm
Half-Past Kissin' Time
Beautiful post. I started to write my dad story last night but had to stop. It has to be done right or not at all, you know? Nice job.
Half-Past Kissin’ Times last blog post..How to make a grown man cry…
Jun 15, 2008 @ 10:47 pm
Jeremy (Discovering Dad)
Geoff, man. That was one of the most impactful posts I’ve read in a long time. It sent chills through me. It sounds like you (and he) got some peace though. Thanks for sharing this!
Jeremy (Discovering Dad)s last blog post..Discovering Dad on Soapbox Radio
Jun 17, 2008 @ 12:09 pm
Kim
I am so sorry I am just reading this today.. I don’t read blogs on the weekend because there is no time..
Nukedad..this was beautiful. I am speechless.. Between your post and Mr. Lady’s post I am sitting here like a blubbering fool.
Happy Father’s Day.. even though I am a little late..
Kims last blog post..Things that make you go awwww..
Jun 17, 2008 @ 4:04 pm
Stacey
Wow. You know he is proud of you. What a tribute. I love you sweetie. Happy belated fathers day to you.
Jun 17, 2008 @ 11:10 pm
Momo Fali
What can I say? What a beautiful story. He would be so, so proud.
Momo Falis last blog post..Don’t Forget To Tip Your Waitress
Jun 18, 2008 @ 12:14 pm
Stacey
Mom came over today just to read this. I have printed pages from the site for her but I’m not sure she understands the scope of all of the information that is on here (still refuses to get a computer). She wants to read the hippity hop and the hill of doom, but I couldnt find it. She cried a bit and then I showed her all the funny stuff. She was good. She said she hadn’t heard this story before……and I know she is glad that you had the experience. I love you!
(NukeDad) I’m glad she read it. I thought I had shared this with all of you when I got to the house. I guess I didn’t. I guess at a time like that it’s hard to keep things clear. I love you too!
Jun 21, 2008 @ 9:42 pm
Petroville » Blog Archive » A Perfect Post - June 2008
[...] Mama awarded Toddler Planet Party of Five awarded Building a Bakery Whiskey in My Sippy Cup awarded Nuclear Family Warhead The Wonderwheel awarded Looky, Daddy! A Parent in Silver Spring awarded Tech Savvy Mama @ DC Metro [...]
Jul 01, 2008 @ 5:02 am
Rachael
You definitely deserve that perfect post award. Amazing. I’m so glad you found that peace, and realized what had happened. Life is mysterious and amazing sometimes.
Rachaels last blog post..More advice on resumes and cover letters
Jul 01, 2008 @ 5:38 pm
Contest Giveaway, Discovering Dads Series Con't
[...] few weeks ago, my favorite blog-crush, NukeDad, wrote a post about his father’s death on, you guessed it, Father’s Day. Which then prompted me to blather on about something or the [...]
Jul 02, 2008 @ 10:49 am
BusyDad
Hey, getting here late, but I couldn’t just read and run. This spoke to me. My dad also passed while I was flying to say goodbye. He got lymphoma a few years back and it hit him quickly. My son was only 18 months at the time and had never met his grandpa (who was working in Turkey at the time). Mom and sis were there already and they called me to fly over ASAP. I took my son with me on the long flight and found out on the car ride from the airport that we missed him by 90 minutes. I kind of knew before they told me, but that feeling of just being stunned is something I had never felt before. I hope I never have to feel it again.
BusyDads last blog post..Rollin’ on tha Eastside… the Far Eastside
Jul 02, 2008 @ 7:32 pm
bgabree
What an awesomw tribute to your dad and to the bond that fathers and sons have. For me, your story touched a chord in my heart and reminded me of the eventual peace I had upon my Dad’s death. Thnaks for provoking such a wonderful emotion.
bgabrees last blog post..Summer Time Memories
Jul 15, 2008 @ 5:43 pm
Serts
Geoff, you were left with the most sacred moment a father and son can share. Thanks for sharing that with us.
Aug 31, 2008 @ 9:33 pm