Wednesday, October 14, 2009














My sister and I have been with my Mom and Father for the past few day. Ben, my father has been in renal failure for some time and is reaching his end here on earth. On Monday I really felt that I should go to work on Tuesday. Tuesday morning came around and I still felt that pull to drive 2.5 hrs to work. I also felt that in going I would probably miss being there when Papa passed away.

Tuesday I awoke at 4:30 am unable to sleep and spent time with Papa while he slept. Before I left Coos Bay I felt to suggest family prayer. Our last call to our Heavenly father to watch over us as we part our ways.

In entering work I was greeted with a hug and an "I love you" from my fellow nurse. She had already in 4 hrs sent two of our residents to the emergency department for further evaluation. I also learned that one of our Long term residents had passed away during the night. I spent the day consoling her upset roommate who mourned the loss of someone who had never been nice to her. Comforting her with the words, "Now you have a guardian angel looking out for you." I moved from her to another resident who received word at noon that the niece he raised had also passed away. I spent time listening to how she had Alzheimers, and that he is very sad, but happy to know she is in a place of comfort. Work later brought me to calling the on call MD to receive orders to put one of my favorite residents on comfort care. (I know we aren't supposed to have favorites, but I just cannot help it!) Her resperations had dropped to 5 breaths per minute and I sadly watch and helped her get as comfortable as she could.

Work ended with a call from my sister that Papa had passed away. After gathering some necessities (chocolate) I headed for the 2.5 hr drive back to my parents. 2:00 am brought me there, a hug from my mom and a "I stayed up to lock the door" from my mostly asleep sister. And now it is 5:30 am again. 24 hrs after the start of my day. I think I am just waiting for it to all sink in.

7 comments:

Alisa said...

Tons of love to you, Marilyn, Darilyn...and all the rest of the family. I love you all and I am sad I am not there to say goodbye to Ben. My life has been blessed by his presence and I will forever be grateful that he taught me the best way to eat pancakes.

Anonymous said...

Sorry I was such a dumb head at 2 a.m. I am very happy we have all had this time together. xxxooo

Jason and Jamie said...

Wow that was quite the day you had! I'm sorry to hear about the death of your father. It sounds like you have lots of opportunities to help people with the grieving process every day. I'm sure you're glad that you live by your family now, rather than still in Maryland--we'll remember you and your family in our prayers.

Sarah said...

Krista, I'm glad you took the time to record these 24 hours. I've been thinking of you since you sent the news out. And of your sister. And the family involved.

How blessed you are to feel promptings and to heed them.

Jenny said...

Krista, I want you to know I am thinking of you. I am so sorry I do not know what else to say. It sounds like it was a long rough day. Love ya.

Jessie said...

Hey Krista, I haven't had time to be online much at all, but had a feeling to check out your blog. I'm so sorry to hear about your Dad. 1 year ago, yesterday, my dad passed away. It was so hard. I'm sure you feel as I do, so grateful to know that this isn't the end, just the beginning... and you'll be with him again. I love you and my prayers are with you!

Prism said...

Isn't grief strange when you know they have just passed into another room? I miss my mom every day--her wisdom, her laugh, being able to pick up the phone for her advice, but I know we will be together again, and that this apart time is to help me grow.

The comfort that surpasseth understanding is real, and I will pray that you and your family are wrapped in those loving arms as you need it.

Our culture is not good at handling grief and death--we are blessed to have your wisdom and compassion to make it easier for those whose lives you touch.