DELUCA: GIFTS IN THE DARKNESS

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Michele DeLuca, columnist for the Niagara Gazette

November 24, 2009

Anonymous The Niagara Gazette Tue Nov 24, 2009, 10:10 AM EST

This will be our first Thanksgiving without my dad.

He died this past summer after a long battle against a declining heart. To the end he wore his favorite baseball cap with the word “NAVY” on it.

I have written before that, for reasons I can’t really explain, I’ve spent more time than most trying to learn about facing death. Perhaps it’s because I like to think I’m prepared for life’s greatest challenges. Regardless, I’ve read so much about the experience that I felt I might know how to behave and what to do when it came. Of course, I did not.

What I found, however, to my surprise, were some moments of serene joyfulness in the events that followed my dad’s death, which became for me a celebration of his life. The little miracles that unfolded around the process of his send-off made the experience feel touched by grace.

At the funeral we shared stories about my dad’s love of the water, and more than one cousin recalled his patient attempts to teach them to water-ski in his little red boat.

Considering that his dying challenged us all with is stark, seemingly endless relentlessness, his passing was as peaceful a moment as we could have hoped for.

I was at his side, alone, when it happened in the middle of the night. The nurses at the nursing home, Mcauley Residence in Kenmore, had been so kind and attentive throughout the experience, and even more so as his time drew to a close.

But, at the end it was just him and me. A few moments after his last, gentle breath, I looked up into the corners of his small room and talked to him ... because I had read so many times that the spirit slips gently out of the body and then stays around for a time.

I kept my voice low so as not to wake his roommate or to appear too crazy if a nurse happened by.

"Dad,” I whispered. “I hope that it’s all true and you are still here for a few moments. If you are and you can hear me, I hope that you feel great and that you can run again and dance again.” Then I added, “Don't be afraid, dad. Go to the light.”

I know it sounds crazy. But, surely life is sometimes so much crazier. And I felt more at peace for saying those words. Just in case.

As it was, the whole experience of my dad’s death was like that, tinged with sorrow yet lightened, somehow, by blessings. We were able to locate my oldest brother who lives on a sailboat, in time to get him home for the funeral. His daughter, my niece, was able to make it home as well and she and I had some precious moments together, reconnecting.

Our extended family and friends circled us and supported us with their love and I got to see how a person’s entire life can be manifested in the faces of all of those who were touched by him, from his beautiful grandsons as they escorted his casket into the church, to his lovely granddaughters who carefully carried communion to the alter during the Mass, to the white-gloved, dignified naval officers who folded the American Flag and handed it to my mom at his graveside. They thanked her for his service to his country "on behalf of the President of the United States."

Death is never easy. But, despite my preparation, I was surprised by this one.

And if I learned anything from my dad's passing it was that life is filled with unexpected gifts, even at its darkest moments. For that, I am eternally grateful.

Contact Michele DeLuca at 282-2311, ext. 2263 or email her at michele.deluca@niagara-gazette.com.

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