All of us will have to walk through that difficult journey of saying goodbye to a parent. Some of you already have, some of you see it coming soon, and all of us dread it.
Years ago I heard a seasoned pastor friend who had just experienced the loss of his dad share three things everyone wants to hear as they prepare to die. I remember thinking, this is something I want to write down. So I did. And I’m so glad I did.
My dad’s health had been failing for a few years, and we had many “this might be it” trips to the hospital. So when he went into the hospital a few weeks ago, we all thought, oh, he’ll pull through. He always seems to. But after about a week of taking steps down rather than up, we knew this was serious. My sister and I flew back to Missouri to see him. He was in the ICU with a bunch of tubes hooked up to him, and while the nurses tried to act positive, Mom knew this was not good. We spent a couple days with him. I got to watch a couple of games with him. And while his talking was labored, we had some good conversations. But then it was time for me to leave. The doctors said he could linger for weeks like this and then pass … or he could even pull out of this.
I remember walking in the room to say goodbye knowing this would probably be the final goodbye. Suddenly I remembered what that pastor told me years ago — the three things everyone wants to hear before they die. So I stood next to his bed, and said, “Listen.” Much like he said to me many times over the years. He knew what was coming. He nodded with childlike compliance. And I shared these three things:
I love you.
“I love you. And I want to see you at Christmas. But if for some reason you are ready to go, and you want to go meet Jesus before then, I understand. But I want you to know something. I love you.”
I’ll miss you.
“Your absence will be noticed. You will be missed. I’ll miss your laugh, your encouragement, your attempts at texting, watching games with you, talking about my cars and carpentry projects. I’ll miss you.”
I’ll never forget you.
“I am who I am because of you. Thank you for always providing. Thank you for always coming home at night. Thank you for taking care of us. Thank you for making God a priority. I’ll see you in heaven. Or I’ll see you at Christmas.” Then I kissed his bald head and said goodbye.
As I walked out of the room, the nurses came in and said “Ok, let’s change that bed pan.” Perfect. While I was sharing my heart, under the covers he was sitting on the can. I laughed. I’m sure he laughed. But I knew, despite the difficult and somewhat awkward circumstances, I said what I needed to say and what he needed to hear. Twenty four hours later he chose to spend Christmas in heaven rather than in Joplin. I don’t blame him.
Saying goodbye is always tough. You’re never ready. It’s never perfect. But I’m so glad I shared these three things. I’m praying when you have to say goodbye to a parent you can have that peace as well.
Well done- beautifully said- so thankful to God I was able to say all those things to my mom and ultimately to my husband- although I didn’t know it was going to be the last. Good example of how we need to always leave the ones we love knowing how much they are valued and loved because we never know which page will turn. Thank you for sharing your heart with the masses.
It breaks my heart to read this Rusty, but thank you. Because one day I’ll need to draw on it.
A week after we heard about the passing of your father, my husband lost his dad. We spent two days in ICU in a situation similar to yours.
We stayed by his bedside, laughing and sharing family gossip, and we also shed a few tears. Pastor Tony from RLC stopped by and said a prayer. He said this was not a “good-bye,” but a “see you later.” I think that helped my husband feel at peace when his dad finally passed.
Although his dad was not able to communicate or share in the laughter Those two days I know he was listening.
Thanks for sharing Rusty, and sorry for your loss.
Thank you Rusty. I struggle cause I know some day I will lose one of the best friends I ever had…my dad Max! I moved from Joplin back to Wichita knowing it will be my responsibility to care for them, make decisions for them and love them even more when their time comes. For now, I cherish the times and laughter with them. Watch as things slowly change with them. Their daily enjoyment. Their confidence in themselves. But one thing I know, they love me and I love and treasure them always. I’ve alteady lost my daddy and have many regrets of not knowing him well enough or loving him! So now I use this time to give my parents my time, my attention and my love. Thank you… your words are such a great reminder to me! I loved your dad and love your mom and our friendship.
Thanks for sharing. My mom passed on Sept 27th, just before your blog. There was much said while she transitioned and I know she heard me. I don’t think I said how much I would miss her, I don’t think I even knew. I hope she knows