Mad at Dad

Not your Dr. Seuss post... :)

Yesterday my father passed. And I cannot explain the pain I felt watching my father experience his last chapter with a DNR in effect.

For anyone who isn't familiar with a DNR, it's a "do not resuscitate." Meaning, as my father was showing signs of dying, no one should do anything to help prolong his life. All I could approve, according to his expressed wishes, were means of comfort and treatment.

The week before, he was in the hospital with renal failure. His kidneys were severely dehydrated. In that conversation, he expressed if it came down to it and I had to make the decision, he wanted to die. He felt he served his purpose in life, and he had no desire to have an experience to force him to live longer.

In the ER, his blood pressure was already low and it was dropping. His oxygen levels were bad. And his organs were failing. But he had a DNR. And by that, I was bound to his wishes.

Not mine.

I began to get upset.

"I can change this." "I can save him." "Why does he want to die?"

Why was he doing this to me?

A little backstory about my father and me, we were mutually estranged for years. He didn't call me. I didn't call him. And due to my childhood, I was never really in a hurry to have him in my life. But something happened and we encountered forgiveness and relationship this year. My daughter met him. She made him smile. We'd grown and I had hope for a future.

If I got married again, I could see him walking me down the aisle.

And here he is, asking me to let him die if the situation called for it.

Was I not enough? Was this relationship not worth living for?

He was ruining my plans... We were good. I was good.

But it wasn't about me. And I felt this in my spirit.

(Hence, why I'm writing about it.)

I found myself thinking of The Last Supper. The preparation of the last meal Jesus and the Disciples had about his purpose and his upcoming death.

Matthew 16:21 starts with Jesus explaining to his Apostles what his true purpose was on earth. As he explained his soon to be murder, Peter yells to Jesus in disagreement. He tells Jesus he "won't allow it."

In no way, shape, or form am I comparing my father to the Son of God. Trust me. Nah.

But I do see where God was present. My father was tired. He lived a long life.

He went from being ostracized from his neighbors, friends, and family.. to becoming a beloved member of the community (y'all the Mayor of his town was texting me about updates on his conditions), a wonderful grandfather to my daughter, and a pretty decent father. He was everything I wanted him to be in my life going forward.

But these things were the same things he was okay with accomplishing before he passed.

My father had cancer. He had kidneys that worked off and on. And he survived two tours of the Vietnam war.

In the midst of fighting all of these wars, my father met and shaped a lot of people.

I had been so narrow-minded to who he was to me, and gave no real consideration to who he was to others. More so, the others who impacted him.

He had a right to be tired. He had a will to rest.

A few posts ago, I talked about how "rest" is a gift of the spirit. It's something that comes with your connection with God.

My entire childhood, my dad never admitted to a belief in God. The last cognitive conversation my father had with me, he told me he was counting his blessings.

Blessings.

Maybe it's possible, my father established a bigger relationship beyond me.

My father's DNR might have kept me from keeping him from an eternity he had for so long kept himself from.

I remember praying over him and asking if he would take this moment in his last few breaths to accept Christ as his Savior.

In my anger of wanting the ability to keep my father with me, I was in the position to keep him from his Father. A father he spent so long avoiding and running from.

The way I'd been running from my own father.

While Jesus was not "running from" His Father. He was on a mission to join Him again.

The same way mine was.

When we try to keep people with us, it's possible we are keeping them from their purpose.

I was angry that I couldn't keep my father. But I find solace knowing he is now with his. :)