I'll re-live these days every year, most likely for the rest of my life. It was the most heart-wrenching joyous occasion I've ever experienced. Heart-wrenching for me, joyous for him. I would be lying if I were to even attempt to say that it is not heavy on my mind on this night, the eve of the anniversary of my dad's death.
A large part of our state had experienced a very bad snow storm over the weekend. However, what followed the storm was even worse. Not only were we covered in snow, but we now were dealing with extremely low temperatures, colder than what any of us were used to with wind chills that made it unbearable. I am pretty certain that Alaska was warmer than Ohio during this week. My dad would have gotten a kick out of knowing that he left during this weather, as if to say that he most certainly had had enough and was completely done with this crazy Ohio weather. I have always hated cold and snow for two reasons; one because I was cold-blooded and always freezing and two because it's how my daddy taught me to think. In our house when I was growing up, snow was a bad word.
When Hospice called the family in for my dad, I was stuck at my home almost three hours away. I was devastated that I could not be by his side. I had spent the previous three years running down to my hometown, Portsmouth, Ohio every time he would take a turn for the worse. When I was at my house and not able to be by his side I was calling Hospice nurses and family members to check up on him and see how he was doing. He had always said that he did not want to live in a miserable state, but circumstances made him live for three years in misery. Now it was time for him to be called home to Heaven and finally be out of misery and because of horrible weather, I was not going to be able to hold his hand one last time and tell him goodbye. It was all that I wanted.
Finally there was a break in the weather, roads were cleared, and I was able to make the trip to be by my daddy's side. I could not get there fast enough. I do not remember much about the trip, only that I had to get down there. Finally, after a very long, exhausting trip, I arrived and joined my daddy as he lay on what would be his death bed.
I had prepared myself for what I would see. I had seen people in their final stages of life many times before, but there is just something different when the person you are looking at is the person that you had looked up to your entire life. As I entered the room I saw a shell of a man. He was no longer coherent nor did he wake up at all. His body was there, sleeping, but my daddy was already gone.
Two nights before he died, my dad saw his welcoming party into the spiritual realm. We watched as the man who had previously done nothing but slept opened his eyes. But his eyes weren't open to the world around us, rather the world that he was about to enter. There was a joy that surrounded my dad that I had never seen before. He looked straight above him constantly and held a huge smile on his face. There were times that he lifted his body in a way that was not humanly possible. The last traces of his man's strength had left his body weeks ago, yet he was lifting himself out of bed. He was not lifting in a normal way, but straight up instead. I am certain that my dad saw Heaven that night, Jesus along with his parents and possibly many others were welcoming him home, no one can ever convince me otherwise. It was the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my entire life.
The days were full of visiting with old friends and long-lost family members. It was so good to see them all again and spend time with them. We sat and talked, we laughed about old times, it was a wonderful time of reminiscing. But it was always in the back of my mind that we were there for another reason; it was all too real that any minute we would be rushing to my dad's bedside to hold his hand as he drew his final breathes.
That moment came on Wednesday afternoon. My husband and my daughter were on their way to join us and they arrived just in time. By the time that they walked in, the rest of us had already gathered around dad, we were all well aware that his time on this earth was complete. We watched as his breathing slowed and finally stopped. I remember watching his chest slowly move up and down, then stop, then slow a few more times. They had warned us that he could stop breathing for a time then start back up. His nurse had told me to count between breaths and that it could be up to twenty seconds before the next. That is exactly how it happened. First it was about five seconds, then ten, then twenty, and finally, there were no more breaths taken. I sat by his side the entire time, held his hand and counted his breaths, maybe he had done the same for me as I entered the world that he was now leaving.
My world would never be the same. My daddy was gone. We had been through so much in life; so many ups and downs, but it was all over now. He was gone. Yet I could still praise God. Thought my dad was no longer here with me, I knew that he was still ok. He had entered Heaven. He was with Jesus and all of our loved ones who had already gone before him. He was finally out of the pain and misery that he had been forced to endure for so long. He was ok. I hold on to that and have a great peace when I think of him. I praise God for my dad. I praise God that He allowed me to make the trip and be by his side as he died. I praise God that one day I will go and be by my dad's side again. He is waiting for me and it will be a wonderful reunion. As I used to sing in church while standing beside my daddy, "When we all get to Heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be!" I look forward to that day. Until then, I love you and miss you daddy.
Larry Bussa January 1, 1947- January 29, 2015
