I have a “Visitor”.
That’s what he said. That’s what my dad said moments before he took his last breath. “I have a visitor and I just got so excited.”
“So excited.” That’s how he felt. That’s how my dad described his feelings at the very end. The very end of cancer.
The end of cancer that came too quickly. Cancer that we thought was cured. But cancer wasn’t cured. It came back. This time to invade his lungs and brain. And this time, the devastation was felt by all who knew and loved him.
My dad. My role model. A patient, kind and loving man who didn’t deserve this. Not now. Not at 63. His retired life was just beginning. But, God had a different plan. A plan that changed my life on March 17, 1998.
That day was twenty years ago. Twenty years. Seems like so long ago, but, I remember it like it was yesterday. I wasn’t prepared for what happened that day. I don’t know how you can be. I never thought I would see someone die. To be in the room when they take their last breath. It’s not something you can prepare for.
But, this day was different for me, my three siblings and my mom. Different, because we weren’t alone. There was a visitor there. Not one we could see, but one that would guide the way.
So here is what happened: It was St. Patrick’s Day and my mom, my two sisters, my brother and myself were in dad’s hospice room. It was his 2nd day there and we were expecting at least a 7-10 day stay. That’s what the doctors thought. That’s how long they thought it would take for dad’s body to shut down. But that’s not what happened.
Around 9:00 p.m. that evening, my mom went home to rest and the four kids stayed behind. About an hour later, my dad’s breathing became very labored. He was having a hard time catching his breath. The nurse came in and put an oxygen mask on him to try and help. We surrounded his bed and as we watched his breathing slowly improve, dad did something. He pulled his oxygen mask to the side and through his labored breath said, “I know why I can’t breathe.” We all leaned in anxious to hear the answer. He said, “I had a visitor and I just got so excited.” I remember looking at my brother and we mouthed the word, “Visitor?” There wasn’t a visitor in the room. It was just us. His four kids. And then dad did it again. He pulled the oxygen mask away and said something we weren’t expecting. He said, “Go get mom, I think it’s time for me to go.”
Wait. What??? No. I’m not ready. We’re not ready.
My brother rushed out to go get my mom who was at home. How could this be happening? Dad was just visiting with friends and eating chocolate cake to celebrate my sister’s birthday from the day prior. He was supposed to be here for 10 days! We wanted more. We needed more. More time. More dad.
But, it wasn’t our choice. It wasn’t our decision. God sent a visitor and it was time. Even though we didn’t want it to be time.
And, then it happened. My dad got a look on his face. That look. I will never forget it. A look we had never seen before. And one that is hard to describe.
It was a look of absolute, complete, excitement. It was like he was seeing the most incredible thing ever. Like a little boy seeing his first brand new bike. His eyes were so wide. His mouth opened as he gasped at what he was seeing. It was incredible to witness.
We all surrounded his bed and through tears, watched in amazement. Watched as my dad left his body and went home. I will never forget it. I will never forget what happened in that room, that night.
I sometimes wonder who the visitor was. Was it Jesus? Was it an angel? He didn’t say a name, so was it someone he didn’t know? Someone he wasn’t familiar with? Whoever it was, it got dad extremely excited and ready to make the journey home.
Since then, St. Patrick’s Day has not been my favorite. I relive those moments in that room. The heartbreak and sadness, but also the joy and peace knowing the pain was gone. Dad was free of pain. He was home.
I do wish though, that he could have met Brad, Eli and Ella. Oh, how they would have loved him, and he them! Someday, though. Someday.
And, to the unknown visitor…I look forward to meeting you someday in Heaven.
But until then, say Hi to my dad for me.
How moving! I still vividly remember your story. Uncle Bill was so special and we feel blessed to have had him in our lives.
Mary Kay, you captured the last moments of dad’s life beautifully. Like I told you earlier, it was both haunting and comforting. Dad was and would still be so proud of you, Mary Kay. Your gift of writing and speaking will bring strength, comfort and peace to many people as you pursue your new journey. God’s blessings! Love you, sister!
I held my Grandmother’s hand as she smiled and quietly left this life to be with her Savior in heaven, and like you, Mary Kay, my faith was strengthened and I will never forget that experience. Thank you for sharing your story today. Love you. Jane O.
I was, along with one of my sisters, with my mom for the last 3 weeks of her life in hospice and there with her when she passed as well. I feel it was an honor to be there and a deeply spiritual experience. I like to think of that day every year as her rebirth-day..into her heavenly existence, worthy of celebration! Loved your beautiful telling of your family’s experience.
Thank you for sharing this story as I vividly recall Todd tearfully sharing this with me the night of your dad’s passing. It is incredibly powerful and a true reminder of how God can be present in the most difficult of moments. He was a special man and father-in-law to me… I will never forget his kindness and acceptance of me into your family!
Love you! Thanks for sharing.
Thank you for sharing MaryKay. Your Dad was very special and I am so glad to have known him. Love you!
That was beautiful, Mary Kay…you shared your heartfelt thoughts to bring a message to others. A gift. God bless you!
We loved your Dad so much. Steve lost one of his very best friends!