Today my father died. A local man, unperfect like the rest of us. He spent his life righting wrongs, and passing along lessons learned. Due to uncontrollable circumstances , but more caused by selfish people my father was absent most of our lives. But the love shared by a father and his children ran deeper than anyone could control. His daughter, and my only sister who he put on a pedestal chairished every moment no matter how long as nothing but Divine time well spent. Gave birth to two children, as time has it these are the last two direct descendants to our branch of the Gagnon Tree. And his son the runt of the pack, a small boy he called Turkey, felt the same love. A love that runs deep and would never be forsaken by distance or time. For that boy was named after his father, and his father. And whos effort in keeping that name faithful will last till the end of time. My sister called me today, saddened she informed me that our father was not planned to last the evening. Shocked we sat on the phone and cried, spoke about lost time, hurt feelings, and hoped our prayers would reach our father. For both of us residing in the south were unable to once again see our father alive in our beloved New Hampshire. Our father was brought into the hospital on Dec. 25 and his health progressively got worse. Our father chose to pass at home where only 5 months ago his beloved wife also passed. Witch raises my question, without request for an answer, when, when did anyone think of his children? As he lay in a hospital bed on the day of Jesus Christs Birth, or when deciding to fulfill final wishes and bring him home so he could go in peace, and once again be with his love Ruthie, and his mother and father. Or when watching him die and while well wishers pass through and say there final good byes. When, when did his family become a priority to the faithful caregivers. My phone call with my sister lasted about 20 minutes,as we both went to take time to pray for our father, my sister was going to call and get an update then call me back so our visual could be held together , on the phone. Hundreds of miles away, holding nothing but distant memories and less photographs. Not two minutes after hanging up my sister called back uncontrollably weeping she informed me our father had just passed. As my anger only shadowed by my sadness took over it came to me that our father waited , he waited for us both to be able to comfort each other if only thru comforting words of a comparable loss, he waited. So when, controllable times drive obligation, just know our father held hope and I assume some faith that doing right always prevails. So when, when I ask for The Lord to have mercy on the soul of our fathers caregivers who knew he had children. Hopefully my wishes are granted for right always prevails. And the Gagnons will greave and rejoice hundreds of miles away. For we find solice in the fact our father is part of us, seen in our smiles, forever in our heats, and preserved in my sisters children. God speed for today my father died.
Posted on: Mon, 12 Jan 2015 22:05:38 +0000
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