Making the Call

Life is so full of decisions we have to make.  Our primary hope is that we make the right ones.  Yet at times, we seem to encounter those decisions we never thought would come our way.  They catch us off guard and leave us unsure of the outcome or the pain which may be inflicted.

My Dad was released from prison in 2012 after nearly 12 years there.  Obviously, our goal was to recapture all of those moments that were lost and spend as much time together as possible.  His life had changed so much for the better and everything almost seemed complete.  Until he was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.  Go figure, right?  Just when you thought things were looking up, you get knocked right back down.

But Dad was a fighter.  He wasn’t going to go down easily by any stretch.  During the treatments of chemo, he always seemed to have the greatest attitude.  He continued to tell people he had nothing to complain about.  I believe it was his attitude that helped him beat cancer…the first time.

In no time at all, the cancer was back and more aggressive than before.  This time the treatments would be more intense.  On top of that, he would have to go through a stem cell transplant in Richmond.  In order to have this done, he would have to endure two whole weekends straight of chemo.  He got through it and was sent to Richmond where he would spend the next three months.

My sister lived with him while he was undergoing this treatment.  His immune system had been so compromised that even the slightest cold could become fatal.  He had a strict set of rules he was supposed to follow.  But again, he was able to endure the treatment and was brought back home.  He had beaten cancer for the second time.  It didn’t surprise us because he maintained that positive attitude and a determined will to fight and live.

Then the unexpected happened…

It was Thanksgiving morning in 2014.  Dad wasn’t feeling good and felt like he had pneumonia.  Obviously, his immune system was still compromised so every little thing became a big deal. Once in the hospital, they ran some tests and found some signs of a possible heart attack. Which lead to discovering his heart was roughly 95% blocked. It seemed the news kept getting worse and worse as the weekend went. 

By Monday the doctors were getting things in place and trying to figure out how to proceed. Dad’s optimism seemed to be fading and kept saying he just wanted to go home.  I remember getting frustrated and telling him that he was being selfish because we needed him here.  We spent too much time without him here and I wasn’t ready to let go yet. I went back to work and waited. 

Around 4:30 I received a call from my sister that Dad had been rushed to CCU. She didn’t know what was going on, only that he had gone into some sort of shock and I should get there fast. So I headed back to the hospital and met with family in the waiting room. Shortly thereafter, the doctors came in and began explaining the situation. All seemed normal until right at the end…

“There’s nothing else we can do. We need someone to make the call.”

I went numb and no one moved. My brother-in-law started down the hallway, but he couldn’t do anything. Almost as if my legs started moving on their own, I found myself heading toward my dad’s room. I took a turn into the room and lost my breath. The activity was overwhelming. I backed out and froze against the wall. I couldn’t breathe. But I pushed past and walked in. There was nurse up on the bed beside my Dad on her knees doing chest compressions. Everyone else seemed to be running around. I stepped up beside my aunt and grabbed my Dad’s hand – there was no life in it. I immediately fell to my knees and lost it. Then my aunt put her hand on my head and spoke words I’ll never forget:

“Bud, it’s your call.”

Never, absolutely never would I have ever expected to be in this position. Regardless of whether he was still with us or not at the moment, suddenly letting him go was up to me. It was literally too much to bear. But knowing his heart helped me to say what needed to be said; “Please stop! Just let him go.”

I replay that moment in my mind far more than I care to admit. Sometimes I question it. If only I had had more faith and prayed harder, maybe, just maybe God would have brought him back. But my Dad wanted to go home and I feel like I gave him permission to do so. No matter how weird that sounds. 

Life throws many decisions our way that leave us clueless and uncertain. We definitely do not know in the moment how the decision will impact us. But we hope that God will give us grace both in the moment and after. I know for a fact that He does. While that day will go down as one of my darkest, I don’t regret the result. Dad got to go Home and, while I miss him terribly, I know I’ll see him again soon.