Last October my dad was on one of his many trips around the world and this time he found him self on a pilgrimage with a group of people from his diocese. He spent time in Rome as well as many other places in Italy. Here he is carrying a cross as he and his fellow travelers prayed while they traversed some of the oldest walkways in the world.
He sent us pictures every single day. As was his practice during his adventures, he would not let the sun set on the day before he shared all of his days activities with us. I am so grateful that he did.
I should have suspected something was wrong when he referred to their itinerary as "aggressive" one night as he sent the day's pictures.
My dad has literally been all over the world and has never said that an itinerary was too much for him.
He was starting to feel worn out by the end of the trip. He felt worse on the plane. I was not yet worried however because when he returned from another trip from "down under" the previous spring he was sick and down and out for a few weeks. I was helping to lead a women's retreat at my church at the time and remember asking the entire group to join me in prayer for his healing. As per usual, he recovered without incident at home and went on to enjoy his summer and fall.
After returning from his latest trip last October he felt it best to head to the hospital. He had no appetite and no energy. I was sure that they would get it all figured out and held him in prayer each day.
My father was an extremely private person and his health was not something he frequently discussed. As luck would have it though, when we were visiting he and Ginny in July of 2025 for their 40th wedding anniversary my aunt and James asked him how he was feeling lately (an innocent topic of conversation) and as they recall, he told them he was "just fine" followed by "well there's this one thing."
That one thing was Myelodysplastic Syndrome. MDS is defined as "a rare blood and bone marrow cancer were spongy bone marrow stem cells fail to mature into healthy functional blood cells." It seems that dad had stayed on top of it though and was managing for the past few years with the help of a medication. We left his home the next day and while in the car James told me what dad had shared with him the night before. I called my sister who was also on the road back from his house and we made a plan to call him in a few weeks when we were again together at the lake.
I remember very clearly sitting on the deck at our lake house that August and calling dad which is something we often did when my sister and I were together. When we casually asked him about what he had shared with Polly and James he could not change the subject quickly enough. He told us in no uncertain terms that he was FINE and we just needed to relax. So being the faithful daughters that we are, we did just that.
Dad spent several days in the hospital last October but was always telling us that he was satisfied with the care he was getting. He texted us every day and kept telling us he was fine and that he just needed to get his energy and appetite back. We were relieved that he was not in any pain. He told us that the doctors were running many tests and that he hoped to be feeling better soon. The last time I spoke with him on the phone while he was in the hospital he was asking me about my family and sharing his concern that his hospitalization might negatively impact our upcoming trip to Florida to see him in November. He was worried that he might not get down there by our arranged trip/flight date. It honestly never occurred to any of us that he would never get there at all. In others words, though inconvenient this little health setback was not a big deal. He was scheduled to get a blood transfusion the next day. Ginny was sending us daily updates from his room and though I was concerned I opted to stay home another week and try to head down to see him and speak with his physicians the next week. Molly and I planned a trip to Arkansas to go see him in the hospital on Sunday, November 2nd. I was texting him in the late afternoon on Friday, October 31st. He was gone early the next morning on Saturday, November 1st. That's All Saints Day to we Catholics.
The last several hours off his life have since been since pieced together by my sister and I and Ginny. Through no fault of her own and a series of miscommunications with phone numbers Ginny had no idea he was in acute distress when she arrived at the hospital and found him not in his regular room. By the time she found him in the ICU they had been administering life saving measures every few minutes because he had a full code status. None of us had any reason to suspect he would not be back home after his blood transfusion. After all, we were scheduled to meet him for a long weekend in Florida at his condo. We were also scheduled to travel with him last July from Barcelona to Rome which was a pinky swear we made on our previous trip to Greece and Italy.
We were on the phone with the nurse as they continued to try and revive him and she had the foresight to tell Molly and I to speak to him (even though he was likely already gone) and so we did. She held up the phone to his ear and we told him how much we loved him and how it was okay to go on to be with Jesus. I'm so glad she did that. I really am just so glad.
The next several days were brutal. Molly and I and our husbands along with my aunt made our way to Arkansas and began to plan his funeral along with Ginny. The definition of surreal is "a situation or experience that feels bizarre, hallucinatory or disconnected." And that's exactly what those next few weeks felt like. It was surreal.
We spent lots of time printing and gathering the many photos that could not begin to capture the entirety of his life. It became rather amusing as we tried to group them in some way that made sense. Those conversations included comments like "do you want the picture of dad on a camel or in the dessert? Do you want waterfall dad or dad climbing a bridge? Do you want dad with us in the lake or dad taking to Tim Allen? Dad with a bear or dad with a moose?
He lived an amazing life indeed.
In the end we grouped the photos the best we could and Ginny has kept them hung up in their home.
Several years ago dad had left a list of his funeral wishes with his church. These included what readings to include as well as who should read them. It included the song suggestions and other practical things. Molly and I read the readings he had pre selected, our boys brought up the communion gifts and James created and read his eulogy. Dad was very active in his parish and his funeral mass was celebrated by three priests, one Deacon and the Knights of Columbus Honor guard.
I was so glad that I was surrounded by my boys during that tearful time.
There were many hidden "God-winks" if you were looking for them. They include the below in no particular order:
I was praying the Divine Mercy Chaplet for my father while he was in the hospital. The priest told me that it happens to be the prayer that is prayed for people who are dying. I had no idea.
In the Catholic Church there are reading assigned to every day. Dad had chosen his readings for his funeral mass years before. Those happened to be the very same readings that fell on the calendar for that day!
There are several women's guilds at their church and it just so happened that it was Ginny's guild that was up in the rotation to serve the food after mass.
There was a full moon while we were there for the funeral. Dad used to text us every time there was a full moon and tell us to go out and look at the "howler."
The system for live streaming the service had not been working and suddenly switched on successfully right before the funeral.
Dad attributed some of his success with Caterpillar to his friend Ed Marquis. After selecting the box for dad's cremains we learned that the one we had chosen was actually called the "Marquis."
Sitting in dad's church you are facing a large window above the altar. Dad used to tell us that he would look out that window as he was praying. During his funeral there were eagles flying outside that window. "And he will raise you up on eagles wings...."
The funeral home that Ginny had selected was amazing in its attention to detail. (A fact my father would have loved.) They created a poster for everyone to sign that had dad's picture superimposed onto a view of lake Ouachita. (IYKYK). They also created a guest book that featured his picture on top of a Caterpillar tractor.
My dad spent the last few weeks of his life in prayer with other members of the faithful in Italy. Traveling closer to and working on his relationship with God. I choose to believe the timing of that was no accident.
As so often occurs we received several cards from many people but also one in particular from the man at the funeral home who took care to tell us that he was responsible for cremating dad and that he was respectful and reverent as he took care of handling dad's cremation. That has always stuck with me.
There continues to be some guilt on all of our parts for not being with him during his final moments. However, we recognize that dad was a very private person and likely would not have wanted to have us there. Nor do we believe that he would have wanted to live compromised in any way. I firmly believe that he had no intention of leaving us until the angels showed up to take him home. I honestly believe that is the only reason he went. He saw what was waiting for him and never looked back. In our reality he would never have wanted to leave Ginny with a huge house in Arkansas, a condo in Florida, several cars and a boat to have to sort out on her own. Not to mention more upcoming already booked international travel with all of us. He left because once he saw the next life there was no comparison. I have a pillow that says "someday everything will make perfect sense." I choose to believe that is true.
In 1990 dad found his way back to the Catholic Church and wore a necklace with the holy trinity on it to commemorate the day. He wore it every day and died while wearing it. I now wear it everyday as part of my daily "uniform."
I took a screen shot of one of our hospital texts and it is framed in my bedroom. I sure miss being able to text him.
All Saints Day is a Christian holiday that honors all Christian Saints and martyrs and though my father was neither of those two things I can't help but laugh at him being a "show off" by dying on All Saints Day. I can just see him taking credit for that.
It's been a long first year without him. We all still have some very hard days. I'm not quite sure how people who have no faith get through things like this. I cannot imagine it.
I recently spent some time up in Minnesota with my aunt. Minnesota is loaded with my kin as you can't swing a cat without hitting a "Passe." It was truly good for my soul and I could feel dad there with me.
The night before the funeral I was sobbing as my youngest son held me at the church. I told him how sad I was that dad would be unable to be at his wedding in May. Adam just looked at me and said "mom, what makes you think he won't be there? All of the angels and saints are at church during every mass." As Adam stood at the altar six months later in May he was wearing my dad's socks, lapel pin and cuff links. And I'm sure dad really was there.
I'm not sure how the 2nd year without dad will shake out to be. I know we all miss him tremendously and cannot wait for the time when we get to see him again. I hope he is one of the angels who comes to get me when it is my time.
"And he will raise you up, on Eagles wings.
Bear you on the breath of dawn
Make you to shine like the sun
And hold you in the palm of his hand."
That's where my dad is on All Saints Day and every day.......in the palm of HIS hand.
