My father passed away January 31, 2013. Though I am more sad than I could have imagined, I was even sadder thinking of how my son, Jeff would react to his "buddy" passing away. From the time he was born he had a bond with my father. When visiting my parents he would give my mother a little side hug if she was lucky but he would practically jump in my dad's arms. They could talk for hours about nothing and everything. He would actually let my father share TV time which is a privilege saved for only a few.
Even after my father had hip surgery, he would take Jeff to their favorite 'chicken' place in Lufkin, Texas, just the two of them and have guy time. Dad always insisted that he take Jeff by himself even after Jeff started showing some tendency for violent outbursts. Dad would just say that "He won't do that with me" and he never did.
After my father had a heart attack three years ago, I was concerned about him taking Jeff out by himself but Dad wanted his guy time with Jeff. He would do things for Dad he wouldn't do for anyone else to include my husband. I have pictures of Jeff and Dad cooking out in the backyard. I even have one of Dad holding Jeff for the first time. For the last three years when I asked Jeff what he wanted for his birthday he would say, "I want to go see Grampa" and we did.
Gramma and Grampa Spearman at Danielle's wedding 10/28/12 |
As a Christmas present, my mother got Jeff a gift certificate to take his dad and grandfather to the Naranjo Museum of Natural History. ( http://naranjomuseum.org/ ) This museum is just outside of my parent's subdivision and Jeff had a great time treating his favorite guys to an afternoon of dinosaurs. When we left Lufkin we headed to the Fort Worth area to see my daughter and her husband. Then, as we were getting on the road to go to my husband's parents in the Marble Falls area, we got a phone call, my father was taken to the hospital for a bowel obstruction and was having emergency surgery. I was told they were not sure he would make it through surgery. I quickly got home and dropped of the "boys" and headed to Lufkin. I arrived just as the surgery was over and Dad had made it through.
Dad got pneumonia and another infection that the doctors could not find. The surgeon went back in, saying that Dad very well might not make it through surgery. But he did, but as the surgeon said, "I found the one thing that no surgeon wants to find... nothing". Surgeons can't fix "nothing". I went to visit my father a few days later and he seemed a bit improved and they were sending him to another hospital to start rehab. A couple of days later I was called and told I needed to get to Lufkin immediately. Taking Jeff to the Arc of San Antonio that day (his day-hab) he asked me when Grampa was going to get better. I had to tell him that he was very sick and may not be able to leave the hospital. Jeff got angry and yelled at me, "GRAMPA IS NOT GOING TO DIE" That was a long drive. When I got to the Arc, I told his teacher what was going on. I could barely hold back my tears as I thought of that long drive to Lufkin and what would Jeff do when Grampa was gone. I got a call from the Arc later that day, Jeff was really focused on my father. His teacher said he did not know what to do.. neither did I but I did say it was fine to say we would pray for him and that if something happened Grampa would be in Heaven.
As I drove to my father's bedside all I could do was think of Jeff losing his buddy and my daughter who just found out she was pregnant, how she would deal with the loss of her grandfather. I got there and ran up the stairs. My father was still with us but he was not communicating in any way.
My husband, Jim picked Jeff up at the Arc and Jeff was very quiet. He turned to his father and said, "Grampa is going to die isn't he?" He then said, "Grampa will be in Heaven". I am not sure what all the folks at the Arc did, but Jeff was beginning to understand what was going on. The next day, I was at my father's bedside almost all day. He was communicating a little by nodding or shaking his head. Knowing he was hearing us in some way.. I told him it was OK. That Jeff was going to be alright and missed him already but would see him again someday. After we left for dinner, my father waited a few more minutes and then quietly fell asleep and passed away.
A couple of days later, when my husband was driving to pick up my daughter in Fort Worth then to Lufkin for the funeral, he constantly talked about Grampa to Jeff and what was going to happen, about the funeral and what that would be like. He answered questions, probably the same ones a hundred times but my husband is patient, thank goodness. When Jeff got to my parent's house, he wandered around quietly, just looking in all the rooms for hours. I wondered if he was looking for Grampa, just in case it was a joke of some kind. The night before the funeral, we decided to have a family visitation. Everyone agreed that it would be best for Jeff to see Grampa before the funeral but not in a large crowd. We all knew that he needed to see my father, to get closure and to know he was really gone.
Jeff went to Grampa and looked at him. We stood ready for a tantrum or yelling but he did not touch him or sniff him (which is what we all thought he would do.. he smells everything) He just said, "Good-bye Grampa" and that was it. You could have blown us over with a feather. But then, he always behaved for his Grampa. That night, once again he roamed the house very quietly, peering in to various rooms.
At the funeral the next day, my husband decided to take Jeff, to give him a final good-bye. At the end, Jeff went to the casket, put his hand on it and said in a loud, clear voice,"I'm gonna miss you, Grampa." Everyone heard it.. and everyone was in tears. But for Jeff, he had his good-bye. We went to the cemetery and Jeff was spinning and flapping, like the usual Jeff. When we got to my parent's house, Jeff was back to his old self, laughing and spinning. Some of my relatives who did not know Jeff, were amazed. As my mom told my aunt.."Now THAT is Jeff".