I sit here in the dimly lit room at the foot of his bed. His breathing is labored and shallow, his skin is pale and gray. I wonder if he knows we are here.
My mother holds his hand as the sound of his breathing softens with each strained breath. “I love you. Save me a seat up there, the 50 yard line would be great!” she says with humor in her voice. The tears begin flowing. She kisses his hand as I sit here and watch 35 years of love and companionship slowly come to an end.
His breathing is static at best – his skin is clammy, his blood pressure non-existent. He is still hanging on. She lays her head on his hand. Death is looming in the air. I can feel him slipping away.
We talk to him; hoping he can hear us. We say out last words through the sniffling and tears. “We love you and will miss you but it’s okay to go home. Jesus is waiting for you.”
His chest moves one last time as he takes his last breath.
Life is such a precious gift. We should love and appreciate the people God puts in our path. Treasure the gifts God has given you. The path is often greenest right where you are. Live life to the fullest.
My sweet Step Father, may you rest in peace.