“I wish you could have seen the smile on your dad’s face when he died!” That’s how the nurse broke the news to our family on December 20, 1997 following the withdrawal of all life support.
After nearly four and one half years in a nursing center, my dad’s final illness commenced in early December, and he Was taken to the hospital on December 8 of that year. The following day six feet of gangrenous small intestine was surgically removed; and although he survived the operation, my dad was immediately put on life support. Day after day we watched helplessly. And prayed. How long would this go on? Why must he suffer so? Would his end come with a lot of struggle? Questions came for which there were no answers.
When the doctors informed us that our dad’s vital signs were really beginning to ebb, the family surrounded his hospital bed to reassure him of our love, to say our farewells, to pray with him, and to wish him a safe journey to Glory. That Saturday afternoon experience, emotional as it was, is something I wouldn’t exchange for anything.
As a family, we chose not to be present while the life support was withdrawn. Would he struggle for hours? For days? As it turned out, the nurse said his end came peacefully after only two or three minutes. But the really beautiful part was that, in those final moments he raised his hand toward Heaven and smiled! What a faith builder that was for us as a family. The same Shepherd who had guided our dad through the experiences of nearly eighty-three years of living was the same Shepherd who had guided him through the experience of death.
For me, my dad’s reaching up to grasp the hand of Jesus was, one more powerful confirmation that the Christian faith is real, that life is worth the living, and as Romans 8:18 declares, that “…our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.
As believers there are many things we learn from the experiences of life as we walk day by day with our Lord. But in more than eight decades of living, there was one thing my dad also learned: Who to reach for in the hour of death!