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January 30 - 2002  There are worse things than having a grandfather in heaven... This is one of the many things I've learned this weekend, as I had the privilege of being there for the last few days, and even the last few moments of my grandfather's life on earth. My grandfather was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease not more than a few months ago. We had our Christmas celebrations with the whole family (his children & grandchildren) at the nursing home where he was living. Then on this past Sunday night he suffered a stroke, which left him in a coma and the left half of his body paralyzed. Up until this point he had been gaining considerable strength, but once he entered his coma, he would not eat or drink anything. By Thursday, all of his children (Except my aunt who's a missionary in Africa) were at the nursing home, and all of his grandchildren were there too. Thursday night we visited him and he was already 'Chein Stoke' breathing -- more commonly known as "End of life breathing". He would take several deep breaths, then stop for 20-65 seconds, and then start gasping again. We though it could be soon at this time, because at any time he could have just not started breathing again. I slept in the room with him that night, for they had an empty bed in his room which was quite fortunate since there were so many of us coming to see him. We did not wish for him to be alone at any time, should he slip away without anyone there to notice. The next day the rest of the family rejoined him and spent the day talking around him, singing hymns to him, praying, and otherwise passing the time. Two of my other cousins, Christy and Julie stayed with him Saturday night. Each day his breathing seemed to be getting more and more shallow. Sunday afternoon they started him on Oxygen, because his breaths were more regular now but were starting to become quite labored. The Oxygen seemed to help, and the mask also helped lessen the sounds as he seemed to be gasping for air a lot of the time. As the day passed his condition worsened, and the nurse informed us that it would not be long now. This seemed to be the message they'd been giving us since we arrived there, but we understood that they really did not know. A remarkable thing we noticed though, my grandpa had Parkinson's Disease, which basically causes your muscles to 'shake' as you try and perform any kind of voluntary movement. He had lived with this for many years, and things like eating and typing were difficult for him, while others like writing with a pen or working on small electronics were impossible. Despite this frustrating condition, he went on typing letters to people and living his life out much as he always had. He founded the distance learning branch of Prairie Bible Institute in Three Hills, and served on various boards and committees at Prairie, even teaching many courses there. Having once been a pastor himself, he also wrote many books, some devotionals, some commentaries, some just stories he had heard or experienced and explained how they showed a spiritual truth. Sorry, that was a tangent.  Anyway, he had had these shaky hands for as long
as I can remember really, and we noticed as we sat at his right side, the
side that was not paralyzed, when we tried to let go of his hand, it would
shake and grasp our hands, as though he were trying to hold onto us. What
was significant about this was that his hand shook as it always had, which
meant that it had to have been a voluntary movement. If it had just been
an unconscious reaction, the hand and arm would not have shook. Even his
grip increased as the time went on, getting strongest just before his
passing.
As evening was drawing on, we started to notice his feet and shins were getting cold, soon his knees and then his thighs. Seeing him breathing at the end was like watching a Coleman Lantern go out from lack of pressure. It would get dimmer and dimmer, and then give a surge of light as though a small pocket of air burst inside, forcing more fuel to the mantle. Yet the lantern got increasingly dim, until my grandpa's breaths were not really coming from his chest as much as they were only reaching his throat. We could almost watch the breaths rise up in his neck, until he was barely taking in anything at all. Then all of a sudden, his once paralyzed eye opened in unison with its functional counterpart, and with my dear Grandpa's familiar shake, they both opened wide and he stared up into heaven. As we drew in close to him, my grandma holding his head and watching his face while the rest of us sang Hymn after Hymn and with my mother crying out, "Grandpa! The Angels are coming!" William Harold Elliott breathed his last, surrounded by his children and grandchildren, and was whisked away into Glory, to be evermore with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, the Son of the Living God. I have to admit that my Faith in God has not always been what it should be, but seeing my grandpa go like this -- I have never believed so strongly in all that I've been taught. I know that he is in Heaven, and that I will see him again one day. I will miss him in the mean while, but knowing that our parting is only temporary just decimates the grief. Sometimes I feel like I still want to cry, and believe me, I cried throughout this weekend. As we stood around him lying in his bed, watching him look up into heaven and we tried to belt out hymns through our shaky voices and tear-filled eyes, one of the nurses there came in and put her hand on my shoulder and once I realized who it was I started bawling all the more. The staff at the Linden Nusring Home are absolutely wonderful. Every one of them Mennonites, it was like being among family. I could not have wished for my grandpa to have been taken care of by anyone else. Our family shuddered to think of how he might have been treated in a public health facility. But the staff there were so kind to both us and to him, making sure he was as comfortable as he could be at all times... And then even comming in and supporting us as we wept at his passing to Glory... It was truly a moment I shant forget. This is really the first time I've had someone close to me die, and I can't imagine you ever get used to it. But what a relief it is to have faith in Jesus, knowing that now my Grandpa is with Him. Our God truely is an Awesome God, worthy of all our praise. BACK to Journal Index |