JESSE'S DAD

A dear friend of mine lost his dad on the morning of January 3, 2010. He had been battling health problems for some time, but that doesn't really matter when someone close passes on. Jesse and I traded a couple of emails catching up over the holidays. I wrote him about my dead horse, my broken truck, and questions about guitars and he wrote back with condolences and answers while sitting next to his father in the hospital. I mentioned my wife's gall bladder attack and he wrote back, "Sorry to hear there is pain in yer household, hope everything gets better." His dad had passed away and yet Jesse was still thinking about others. I tell you this not to take attention away from his dad. It's more of a tribute to his dad, because Jesse is the man and great friend that he is because of his dad.

The following is the content of Jesse's emails. I got permission to post these wonderful words he shared about his dad.

The only other news is that Dad has been in the Hospital since before Thanksgiving. He was in ICU for 2 weeks, then got out and into a room for a week and was awake and able to carry on conversations. But after a little over a week he got the P-nuemony and went back into ICU for another 3 weeks. Outside of the week he was in a regular room he was on a ventilator. His wife decided to have them take him off a couple of days ago but he is still hangin' in there like a hair in a biscuit, although he hasn't opened his eyes or been able to speak in over a month. I am sitting next to him as I write. I have no idea if he knows I am here, or if he knows I've been here at all, since he went into ICU weeks ago but I know I'm here. Don't know how much that really counts in the big picture though.

Sorry, didn't mean to ramble. I guess it's just been on my mind to write something about him.

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Dad moved on at about 7:30am 1/3/10

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Dad had been pretty much zonked out on Morphine and such for a while. They took him off the machine, as was his wishes, and said it wouldn't be long BUT he hung in for almost 3 days. I thought maybe he would pull out but the truth is it is probably better this way. I know that sounds horrible but he had only been out of bed one time in over two months and that was after he had been in the Hospital for two weeks. He had insisted on "going to" (basic human dignity, I suppose) the bathroom instead of a bedpan. Well, he couldn't stand even then but I was able to get him on what he (and Grandma) called the "Thunder mug", you know the bedside pot. I left the room and gave him privacy but when he was done it took me and a male nurse to get him back in bed, he just had no strength. That was the last time he was out of bed and that was almost two months ago so you can image how much muscle loss there had been. He also had a stroke at some point near the very beginning of all this. I remember when he was awake he was telling me that one of his arms had felt funny ever since he woke up and he didn't seem to be able to control it. He could raise it to some degree but could not use it. However he had no slurred speech or droopy eyes er anything else. I thought maybe it was just weak and maybe it was "asleep" but I found out later it was a stroke.

So even had he come out of this he probably would have been stuck in bed from now on because without the ability to support himself with both arms he would never have walked.

The funeral was today and out of all the hard funerals I've had to get through (Grandmaw's, Mom's and my Aunt, who had taken us in when my natural Mother died when I was 2) this was the hardest by far! See, not only was this a funeral of a parent it was the funeral of my LAST parent! Dad had been the source of strength through those. He was my example of how to grieve with dignity....he was not there in that capacity this time. I hope I did not embarrass him. Even though I tried very hard to be the pillar of strength there were tears but my breakdowns have been in private, at least that is what I think. That was the example he had set for me. A man had to show strength, outwardly at least, if not for himself for those around him looking for strength. A man has to appear strong, if not for himself then for others. He was as strong as he could muster for all those funerals before but I know when he was alone he sobbed in private. I heard it but left him to believe I knew nothing of it for to have gone to him, or let him know that I knew in any way, would have been the worst thing I could have done I believe.

His Casket was draped with a Flag and a picture of him as a boy (yes, boy, he lied and said he was 17 when he was really not yet 15) in the Navy WWII (The Great One) was sitting on top. After it was over they folded the Flag and I have it now. I need to find one of them fancy boxes for it! I have lost a Father, teacher and mentor but America has lost a Patriot, a fighter and a true American! Yes, I have lost a Hero......but I share that loss with my Country because, it also lost a Hero! It hurts, and greatly saddens, me that he had to witness what is happening to the Country he so ardently wanted to believe in, serve and defend that as a child he was willing to put his very young life on the line to do so, be torn to shreds before his eyes! If nothing else I take solice in the fact he will not have to witness that any longer!

Sorry, didn't mean to write a novel

j