On The Ultimate in Transitions and Timing.
Saying Goodbye to my Father, Welcoming My Grandson.
The last two weeks have overflowed with every imaginable scenario and emotion.
The last few days, even more so.
As my daughter-in-law's Jan. 30 due date rapidly approached, my Dad was admitted to the hospital once again.
My concern for Connie increased. With her recent bout of covid, working, Eliza, winter storms, and being at full term, I knew she was ready.
Dad's prognosis was grim and time was short.
I was acutely aware of the very real possibility we'd experience an exit for one loved one and an entrance of a new one simultaneously.
After tears in stillness and solitude, I chose my course.
I would continue to celebrate the baby's arrival even as I helped my dad on his journey with dignity and love.
I would find beauty, peace, comfort in the timing.
Not chaos or sadness.
No conflicted emotions.
I would fully embrace the fragility of life along with the joy and the gift it is.
A long day with my dad on Monday was sprinkled with brief, but still meaningful conversations and hands-on care.
I drove to see Kurt and Connie before they were off to the hospital. We were together with our Eliza as they left at 8:30 pm.
As the procedures started their labor, Dad became unresponsive.
A steady stream of your messages was coming in supporting the birth, dad, and the family.
With each call, my words shifted from one part of our real, active situations to the other, even as my heart held both parts.
"Dad is really leaving, definitely today," I thought. The baby is most likely arriving tonight."
Your questions and concern were trepid and sincere:
How is your mom? What do you need? How are your kids and the baby? What do they need?
How are you doing, Laurie?
A full-on experience of life coming and going with the craziest possible timing.
Tears of sadness mixed with tears of joy and anticipation.
Prayers for health and safety in the delivery.
Comfort for our aching, joy-filled, bursting hearts.
On Tuesday, my mom, siblings, and I were with dad as he took his last breath peacefully at 1:45p.
My Dad had been stubborn to leave, the baby, slow to arrive.
While holding dad's hand, I asked him a question:
Had they planned all along to meet in their transition?
What did he say to his great-grandson as he was getting ready to enter this life?
What did Reese ask his great-grandpa as he saw him pulling away from here?
I hope they discussed that both places can sometimes be scary and uncertain, but you won't be alone. I hope they reassured each other and hugged.
I watched my phone for Kurt’s call, wondering if these events would share the date or be separated by the thin line of midnight.
9.5 hours later, shortly after 11, Reese James, my 8lb, 4 oz, 19" grandson entered the world.
Goodbye, Dad. You will be deeply missed.
Welcome to the world, Reese.
I love you and cannot wait to meet you.❤️
