More Photos

Flowers for You

Deb brought over some flowers yesterday because she knows how hard things are for Brandon and I right now. I put them on our ancestral altar for you. I hope you like them.

Here's some pictures that celebrate your life on this planet.

Life Goes By ...

80 Years Young

My father's death took everyone by surprise. He was 80 years young after all, full of life and vitality. No one who had ever met him could believe he was actually 80 years old, but he was, and he lived a very full 80 years up to the very last week of his life.

Pop had just come home from his vacation with Bonnie about a week before he had to go to the hospital. They went to Mesa Verde, which was one of his favorite places. After being in the hospital for 5 days, he was ready to go home. It was apparent the end was near. One of the last things he said to my brother and I as he lay in that hospital bed was "I'm ready to bust this joint!" He could barely speak, looked like hell and felt like absolute crap, but still managed to utter one of his many witticisms and maintain his sense of humor.

The next day, Pop went home. That was Monday. On Tuesday, all of his family who lived near him were next to him - his wife Bonnie, his son Daniel, daughter-in-law Debra, his grandson Brandon, and me. His close friends Gene and Lee Donahue were in the next room. Earlier that day, his friend of over 40 years, Lisa, said goodbye. She had come up from New Orleans to visit, and he had fallen ill and was in the hospital almost the whole time she was here. She was so helpful and offered to stay for a few extra days to help out. I know Pop appreciated that although he may not have been able to tell her how much. I know we were all very grateful. Pop was able to talk to his sister, my aunt Nancy, that day as well. Somehow, he managed to take Brandon's hand in both of his hands and tell him he loved him, and to tell him to tell me that he loved me, too. Brandon broke down at that point, understandably. Pop may have spoken to others, I am not sure. Later that night, we all gathered by his bedside. I had been laying next to him holding his hand and stroking his arm, and his grandson was also laying next to him and holding his arm. Everyone had some sort of physical contact with him to let him know he was not alone. I know my brother helped to give him his last bath that day. Gene dealt with all of the unpleasant things that happens to a person's body when their liver has shut down, thank Buddha for that. I know I will be forever grateful. Shortly before 10:00 p.m., my friends Barbara and Zack Kleppetsch said their goodbyes. We all had a chance to tell Pop it was okay for him to go. We didn't want him to suffer anymore. And, we reminded him that he has a whole family waiting for him - his mom and dad, his sister Shirley, his pups Bjorn, Frankiln, Dante, Chester, and Wilma, and his son Michael, among others. Bonnie put on Beethoven's Piano Concerto #5, "Emperor"; Pop's favorite music. Moments thereafter, Pop breathed his last breath. He was gone.

Iowa City Hospice helped us through this traumatic ordeal. They essentially held our hands through the whole process of knowing what to expect from a person who is dying, how to tell when a person is in his last hours, and what to do once the person passes on when they are dying at home. They were awesome. We have requested that donations are made to them in lieu of flowers, or to donate a pint of blood in his memory.

There is no cure for the kind of cancer that took my father. By the time he found out he had it, it was already too late. It had spread from the gall bladder to the liver and lymphatic system. Even the second opinion was as gloomy as the first, although the delivery of the news was much better (that issue I'll discuss in another post). He participated in a clinical trial at Mayo which obviously didn't slow the progression of the cancer. However, I am quite sure that he would not view it as a total loss, since he was able to at least contribute some much needed data to the study.

Last year, we held a surprise birthday celebration for him at the Old Chicago restaurant in Coralville, Iowa. Family, friends, and some of his students showed up to help us celebrate. What a great thing to give him for his last birthday celebration. Pop did not die of old age - he died 80 years young. You can check out the invitation here.

No Funeral For Me, Please

My father made it very clear to his family that he did not want a funeral. Rather, he wanted us to gather with family and friends to have a celebration of his life when he passed over. He also said that he wanted a Veteran's Salute. So, we have scheduled just that - a sharing of memories of his life, Veteran's Salute, and a nice Cajun spread in true Alvarado style. This is taking place on Saturday, November 24, 2007 from 6:00 to 9:30 p.m. at the Henderson-Barker Funeral Home in West Branch.

We hope to see everyone there!

Obituary

West Branch, Iowa

Donald M. Alvarado, 80, died on Tuesday, November 13, 2007 at his home in West Branch following a brief illness.

A sharing, Veteran’s Salute, and reception to celebrate his life will be held Saturday, November 24th, 2007 at 6:00-9:30 at the Henderson-Barker Funeral Home in West Branch.

Don was born December 19, 1926 in New Orleans, Louisiana the son of Alfonso and Bertha Couture Alvarado. He was a graduate of A.I. DuPont High School in Wilmington, Delaware, the University of Iowa, and Johns Hopkins University.

Don was a retired professor of medical illustration at Louisiana State University (LSU) Medical School in New Orleans, Louisiana. He worked as an illustrator and collaborator on the 100th Year 27th Edition, and the 28th and 29th American Editions of Gray’s Anatomy. He served as a visiting professor for a year at the University of Tromsø, Norway, and worked as a consultant for the World Health Organization in Bangladesh. In addition, he was a retired Lieutenant Colonel with the United States Army serving for 32 years.

On November 22, 1975 he was united in marriage to Bonita (Bonnie) Jerry in New Orleans, LA.

Upon retirement, he moved to Iowa in 1982, returned to graduate school, and spent years renovating his Victorian-style home in West Branch. He was a simulated patient instructor for many years at the University of Iowa Medical School, participated in numerous research studies, and was proud to have donated over 100 pints of blood to UIHC.

Don loved life, and most importantly he loved his family and friends. His canine companions held a special place in his heart, and he had been active in Keeshond rescue. He enjoyed teaching, traveling, photography, and music and considered himself a joyful student of life.

Survivors include his wife Bonnie Jerry of West Branch. One son: Daniel, wife Debra, Alvarado of Ladora, Iowa and one daughter: Denise Alvarado of West Liberty. Three Grandchildren: Brooke Danielle Alvarado, Brandon Davidson Alvarado and Sarah, husband Troy, Stauffer. Two great grandchildren: Dominic and Dylan. One sister: Nancy, husband Norman, Hall. Also surviving is a brother-in-law Hal Jackson as well as several nieces and nephews. He was preceded in death by his parents, son Michael Jon Alvarado, sister Shirley Jackson and an infant brother.

Memorials may be made to Iowa City Hospice or donate a pint of blood in his memory.