Monday, November 19, 2007

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.


3 comments:

Anonymous said...

that is so classic of your dad, old fart, how funny. i do not want a funeral either, i want a par-tay.

Ginnie Woodard said...

Don and Bonnie have touched so many people's lives through their involvement as simulated patients at the College of Medicine. However, students thought that Don was also simulating being 80, because that couldn't have been true! We can rest assured that many doctors and doctors-to-be are so much better prepared because of the wisdom and feedback from Don and Bonnie.

I feel so blessed to have known both of you. Thank you for sharing your love for each other with all of us. Ginnie Woodard

Wayne said...

I always liked Don. He treated me like a real human being when I frequently didn’t resemble one. He was truly an articulate man who had a great sense of humor. His children, all of whom I’ve had the pleasure of calling friends, inherited his sense of humor and stoic grace. Truly great men are rare and his mark on the world is a large one.