17 Who is Your Role Model?

Day 17 - February 5

Father’s childhood home sat on a corner in Dupont, Pennslyvania, surrounded by a white picket fence. Out back on the other side of grandmother’s garden, his older brother, Peter, operated a car repair shop. Day after day Peter cared for the vehicles of the community. Father was drawn to the space. Quite a bit younger, he wasn't ready to perform the repairs, but any little job Peter had for him made his day. He watched, listened and participated when possible, appreciating Peter’s ease with the customers, and understanding their respect for his brother.

Word is spreading through father’s community, the phone does not stop ringing, his friends want to say good-bye.

I organize a schedule with at least an hour between visitors. He greets them in his living room using energy and stamina gleaned from each exchange. For me, not one telling becomes any easier than the one before. I sit on father’s blue couch looking into the eyes of his friends who have loved him, some since before I was born. I attempt to distract myself when they lean in for a final hug, but I see the red faces, I hear the tears as they walk out the door and down his hall for the last time.

Sometimes he sings, usually a song about heaven. He asks about their lives, their work and their families. He starts his story in Dr. Smith’s office. A few sentences into it, he turns to me, “Cher, you take it from here please.” I finish the story each time, the whole story, recounting his prayer for a sign from the Lord, his limited time, his pending decision regarding when to stop dialysis--the details he wants to share.

He leans forward, eyes twinkling, pointing his index finger in a gentle shaking motion. “There is not one more thing I need to do. I've never felt this way before--there has always been more I wanted to do, places I wanted to go…but now, I’m ready.”

“I have no regrets. I've lived my life to serve God. I can’t wait to get to heaven.”

The soft wagging of that finger seems to say, “Take note, listen, live for the Lord, this will be you some day. You’ll want to know this peace.”

I’m grateful for the role models in father’s life--his divine model, Christ, and his earthly models like his brother Peter.

I am drawn to father’s space. He gives me little jobs. I watch, listen, and participate when possible. I appreciate the ease with which he cares for each person he encounters. I understand their respect for him.

I thank him for teaching me how to grow old with grace, and purpose, and love.