Dad and my Uncle Ray....in loving memory
Today is the 6th anniversary of my Uncle Ray's death and the 3rd anniversary of my dad's death. They died on the same day, July 9, three years apart. Until I met Bill, they were the most important men in my life. I grew up with both of them, because my Uncle Ray (mom's brother) lived with our family.
Their deaths couldn't have been more different. Ray suffered bedridden for 8 months in the final stages of prostate cancer. He lost over 100 pounds, but kept his sweet disposition. Many times he would tell us of seeing a woman in white, or people on a white boat. We would tell him it was Ok if he wanted to get on the boat and go away, but he'd just smile and say, "Not yet." Mom, Sis, the nurses, and I took care of him in those final months, and we were glad to do it. Ray was a man of such pure sweetness and generosity that he almost glowed with it. Even though Ray was considered mildy retarded by the medical world, I saw him as having a clearer view of what was important in this world than most politcal leaders or scholars. When Ray had lapsed into a coma, we took him to a local hospice house to spend his final days. When we got to his room, I was amazed to see picture of an angel in white over his bed. I said to him, "Ray, your woman in white is here...it's time to go home." He raised his eyebrows but did not wake up. Later than night he took a deep breath and died, Sis and I were with him at the time, and I could literally feel his spirit leaving. It is one of the most powerful, awesome, and yet sad experiences I have ever known.
Dad had been dealing with high blood pressure and mini-strokes for a few years before his death. While his wit stayed sharp, his memory had begun to fail some, and he had days when he was confused about how to do things he had done for years, like read the baseball standings in the local paper. A few times he lost his balance and fell. While I was in MS visiting Bill (this was during his deployment), Dad had a heart attack and was hospitalized. I came home to find that he would need a triple by-pass. The night before his surgery , I took Chelsea to see him, and before I left I said, "See you tomorrow, Dad. I love you." I would see him that next day, but he would be in a vegetative state due to a massive stroke he had sometime in the night. Because his vitals were steady, the nurses never even knew it happened. I got there first, and couldn't wake him up. He died later that morning. To say we were shocked was an understatement. And yet I don't think Dad was. You see, about 6 months before his heart attack, he took me into his study and showed me a poem. He said, "I want you to read this at my funeral." "You're not gearing up for it, are you?" I joked. So I did read it at his funeral. And here it is http://www.ehhs.cmich.edu/~tbushey/quote.html In it you will see Dad's love of music, and his belief that God can take anything and make it perfect.
Later today I'm going to do 2 things: I'm going to listen to the tape of my dad's funeral service, which I have never done before and I'm going to have a big milkshake, because Ray loved them.