Was it really his time to go? God’s time?
I have pondered this question over and over since Dean died.
Is it ever really our time? Are our days truly numbered? Or does God just meet us the middle when incidents happen? As if to say, I’m here for you. Are you ready?
After all, life offers free choice. I mean … what if I just opened fire on a group of people. I chose to take their lives. Not God. Accidents happen every day. Then, I think did Dean see too many of his loved ones that have already left this place. And sad as it is, for reasons unknown, I wasn’t there to call Dean back and keep him fighting for his own life – his dash – nd for our life together.
For as much as I miss Dean, I really miss “us” too. That party in Heaven is growing way too fast, faster every day. Not even three months after we first moved to Arizona back in 2003, Dean’s own mom passed at her home from lung cancer, with his dad at her side, only to open her eyes one last time looking upwards before quietly slipping away. This after not communicating or being awake at all during the 24 hours earlier.
My own dad died of prostate cancer back in 2011 but not before helping others, by being in a blind study for a drug approved by the FDA only after he had to die. Yet, on his death bed in a sedated REM state on morphine, he spoke of building a bridge with my uncle Archie who was there on the other side. He even made mention of my parent’s dog saying “Gatzby has to stay.” Which she did, remaining on earth as a loyal companion for my mom an additional six earthly dog years before the dog’s own departure. For any dog lover knows – all dogs go to heaven.
Coincidentally, my uncle Archie had already been dead several years prior to my dad. Even our grandparents were all gone. I recall spending one of the last nights with my 99 year old grandmother before she died. I was sleeping in my grandpa’s bed across from grandma as my grandfather had passed a few years prior at the age of 95. In the middle of the night – I will never forget on this dark December night, my ever-so faithful grandmother sitting upright full of life, yet still in her sleep, both arms lifted high to the ceiling saying…”Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul!”
Truly this act was a remarkable testament to how she lived in faith. Then following, One Silent night after my grandma was gone, I recall a story from my own Aunt Mary, my mom’s sister who says she woke to the wind and the sound of her outdoor wind chime uniting in peace to the tune of “Silent Night”, my grandma’s favorite Christmas carol.
Sadly, a couple of Dean’s friends had their lives cut short, too. And as fate would have it, Dean’s own father, Dean Sr. died just less than one year before Dean Jr due to complications after heart bypass surgery. In his dad’s case, his blood wouldn’t clot and the surgeon had to reopen him on the surgery table three times to try to stop the bleeding. His dad had been sedated for about a week before he passed, waking up only briefly at the end able to tell us he wanted to “take the damn mask off.” He was referring to the oxygen mask he was wearing. It took Dean Jr to go up the hospital staff chain of command and argue his plea to ensure his dad’s wishes. Dean’s dad died within an hour of that mask being removed but not before speaking of his own loved ones – a sibling named Phil, and even his own parents who he confirmed he was seeing before he slipped away. Mumbling at one point just moments prior to his death he said “There they are.” They were family members who had already passed.
Dean’s dad was his best man at our wedding and his absolute best friend.
Why is it that some only get a couple chest compressions and they survive only to be able to thank the person or people who happened to be in the right place at the right time able to help? Dean had every opportunity to come back. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men; the people and the tools were all in place. Why didn’t he come back? Why couldn’t he come back? Did he even look back? He up and left me just like that. I remember chasing him down in so many dreams asking him if he even thought about me. I guess for me, the tough part is that I had no closure. He wasn’t sick. I didn’t see him progress like my own dad, to a state of hospice due to cancer or an illness. He simply up and left.
Leaving me to ponder, why?
Then one night in a dream, asking as I did in several dreams before, I finally received his answer.
As I was following him, he was moving forward. I asked him again “Did you even think of me?” He simply turned my way giving me a grin and simply said: “Yes, but.”
So, is that a, “Yes, I thought of you, but, I had no choice” or “Yes, I thought of you, but what’s ahead is far greater.”
Either way, he’s gone!