My last post listed some wonderful things going on in my life, including my step-dad's waged recovery from cancer surgery. Unfortunately, in the following days from my last entry, his recovery was thwarted and he passed away. It seems that his other lasting ailments were the cause. The cancer was a mere hassle compared to his congestive heart failure, which ultimately took him, it seems. Anyway, we just returned from Tennessee and I have a funeral mass and burial to plan...
It's odd that this does not in any way compare to my own father's death. Instead, I feel a great sense of relief for Fred. He was so sick, so frail. NOT the man that I knew. The man I knew walked tall, told really bad (and often off-color) jokes to all who would listen, loved to watch racing, and wouldn't take shit from anyone. The man he had become was not the same, and I know that it bothered him. He was proud, sometimes to a fault, and being sick and not in control was really hard for him. Mom loved him too much to see this, but we saw it and it was sad.
For some, death is a very sad, very hard thing. For me, with my own father's death, I felt this selfishly, and still do. For Fred, I know he is happier now. He was able to see all his grandkids before he left. He was able to tell my mom the things he needed to say. He made peace with the Lord, and received the sacraments before he left us. No, for Fred death is a welcomed reprieve. He is standing up straight, I bet, fixing something that isn't broken and telling everyone within earshot a story about something he did down here.
While he will be missed, he is surely in a better place. Of that I am sure. Rest in peace, Fred Jenkins. Rest in peace.
7 years ago
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