I also liken it to attending a friend or family member’s college graduation.  You see college graduations are actually called graduation,  but commencement.  Universities frequently view a college commencement ceremony not as the end of their college experience but the beginning of their lives after an intense education process.  It’s a powerful time in anyone’s life and the mark of a great accomplishment.

So it is with death.  I had been expecting my father to die for more than five years because he had been diagnosed with a glioblastoma, the most heinous of all brain tumors, the kind that never truly goes away, and even after surgery will always come back.  During his illness, I had the opportunity to really get to know him for the first time because he had withdrawn from his family before he had Cancer.  After he realized he was going to die, he discovered what was truly important to him and decided to prioritize his family and friends. 

But as time went on, I could see the ugly, bitter disease process take its toll.  He became more and more child-like.  After he had to go live in a nursing home, he often said things that just didn’t make sense.  Yes, he could produce words and form sentences, but they were out of context. 

I remember the day he died.  My mother called me that morning and told me that he was going to die in the next few hours.  At first, I didn’t want to go.  I thought the memory of seeing my father die would haunt me for years.  But then, I called her back and told her that I was going to come and be there until the end. 

If I recall correctly, I arrived at the nursing home around 9 in the morning, but it might have been 11.  People came in and out all day, and the nursing home staff had made sandwiches for the family and friends.  When I looked at his feeble body, I also knew he would not last much longer in this world.  His eyes were closed and his chest was heaving where he was struggling to breathe.  I knew he was in agony, but the doctor had ordered some pain medicine for him.

At 7:00 that night, he drew his last breath and his spirit left his body to go into the next realm of his existence.  I remember laying my body across his and being weak with grief.  The nurses told us he had died and offered us a place to sit.

I remember after everyone else had left the room, I sat in there with him for a while longer and just stared at his lifeless body.  His mouth was open and he just lay there.  I remember how angry I was.  I couldn’t believe he would just leave us; we were not finished with him yet.  But deep down, I new that was just not a logical way to look at it.  He lasted as long as he could and as long as he wanted.  He released his spirit when it was time, and I think he knew that everything would be fine in this realm. 

To be honest, I still miss him.  No matter what he was doing, he was never too busy to talk to his family.  There are very few people in our lives like that, aren’t there?  How many people do we know that are happy to hear from us at any time no matter what they’re doing.  I don’t think I will ever forget that.

And so, because he was so great in his life and had devoted so much to his family, it was my privilege to be with him when he died.  I will cherish that memory as long as I live and thank the Great Creator for it.