This Post is Mostly Recycled

My blog-pal, Sippican, is known to recycle a post and so I know it's O.K.

Today, Dad got moved from the care center back to the hospital. He'll be having a surgery within the next day to implant [?] a feeding tube. The medical folks suspect he may have had another stroke or the Alzheimer's is progressing to another level. Either way, he cannot swallow and we all agreed that we did not want Dad to starve to death. When the Good Lord wants him, He'll just have to do so. No man-made device can thwart God's will. But we're heeding the call to feed the hungry and slake the thirsty.

I wrote this about Dad on Father's Day 2005.

For My Dad
How my dad ever became a good dad is pretty remarkable. His own father died when he wasn't quite 5 years old, at the height of the Depression. His mother moved around a lot, taking teaching positions and sending for Dad when she could. He spent a lot of time with his grandparents and being a gypsy with his mother. Then she remarried and had four more children with a step-father who was probably manic-depressive. He pilfered my dad's college fund, but Dad worked his way through school anyway. No dad and a bad step-dad....Not too many good role models there.

But through some stroke of God's great will, my dad was really quite good. He coached my brother's baseball team and, when he ran out of sons, he coached my softball team. Dad was a good coach for me in all things. I recall late sleepless nights on several occasions--the night before junior high, high school, college, law school and the Army. He knew that I was anxious about the next new thing and he calmed me down. He would play "worst case scenario" with me. He would sit on the edge of my bed in a darkened room and 'what-if' the worst thing I could imagine until I realized that most of the trouble was me just being fretful. When the Army assigned me to Fort Benning, Georgia, I called him crying and asking him if it would be O.K. He was stationed at "Benning's School for Boys" in the 50s. I think he was secretly pleased that his little JAG princess would be among all the Infantry men. Indeed, I met my husband at Fort Benning. I am grateful for Dad's sage advice to go where the Army sent me.

In all sorts of ways and in all my days growing up, Dad was there. He was funny and kind and a great defender of the downtrodden. He would go to bat for any of us kids if he perceived we were a victim of some sort of small town injustice. Similarly, and probably more importantly, he required that we take our medicine if we ever deserved it. He passed on an entrepreneurial spirit by running a small family business for 25 years and requiring us to work at the crappy jobs it had. Even though he wasn't a Catholic until just a few years ago, he took us to Mass every Sunday. I remember as a little girl that he would often just sit through the service. Then as I got older, he would say some of the prayers and even kneel at the Consecration. Years later, he got into theological discussions with me and I got to coach him through some of his misgivings about the Roman Catholic faith. He came to the faith out of a purely intellectual pursuit...That and Mom praying for him for over 40 years!

Now Dad is stricken with Alzheimer's disease and he's not really like the Dad I knew. He cannot recall the names of my children and often gets my name on the second or third try. But, in his own way, he coaches me, and still serves as a barometer for injustice. His intellectual faith has changed into a childlike faith. I have much to learn from him as always.
posted by Ruth Anne Adams @ 6/19/2005 08:40:00 PM

Thanks for the prayers and words of encouragement. They mean a lot to me.

UPDATE: The four of us siblings had a cross-country phone conference and we're encouraging Mom to get more information, so as to make an informed choice about all the options. My two sisters both saw Dad yesterday in person and he seems quite on the brink. He hasn't eaten for several days and we're trying to sort out all the competing issues. We might have been hasty in our desire to FEED HIM! when this might be his way of finishing his journey. Doctors won't shy away from doing a procedure. We just want Mom to have all the information. What would I do? What would I want done to me? We've had some very difficult, important talks in our family the past several days. My prayer is for clarity and peace.

FURTHER UPDATE: My brother, Paul, has his photos and thoughts here.