It all started about two years ago when we were driving to my parents’ house on a sunny day. We were all so happy that, with our new vehicle, we could go see them more often: we could all fit, had air conditioning, and did not have to worry about the car breaking down on the four-hour ride.
On one of the last of these more-frequent visits, I noticed my dad was very different. To my surprise, no one saw what I saw except me. He just was not himself. The glaze of his eyes was different. I can’t explain it… but it was not the dad I knew.
After coming back home, I remember one night when all the kids were in bed: my husband and I were exhausted but, with no more interruptions, we started to talk about my dad and the situation of my parents. Immediately my husband offered to help my parents, foreseeing that my dad’s health was going to decline rapidly (we now knew he had Alzheimer’s) and my mom could not take care of my dad by herself while working full time. I was not surprised that my husband made this offer to me, as he truly is a man of faith and walking charity, always putting family first. We were not, humanly and worldly speaking, ready for this task at all: our rented home was too small for them; financially we were just making it for our family of seven; they lived out of town; my dad will never consider moving somewhere else… and so on…way too many obstacles to consider. It meant lots of sacrifices on our part and theirs. We both had to move houses (sell their home, find someone to rent where we lived so no penalties) and find a new home that accommodated their needs and ours, detaching ourselves from our wants or future plans--including my five kids… all in less than a month we had to do it all.
Impossible, right? Only if it is the will of God will it all work out, we kept saying. We all took high risks… but we knew down in our hearts it was God asking this of us, so we started moving forward with faith, hope and love. Yes, I did have panic attacks as truly God had to do many miracles. I asked God, “If this is what you want, please let my dad want to move in with us.” My dad kept saying for years that he wanted to die in that house that he lived in. It took effort and especially the gift of the Holy Spirit for my dad to agree to move houses at the age of 85. And he was actually excited when he agreed. My mom said “yes” but it was very hard for her as well, as it meant to detach from her job, house, friends, parish….but she did it for love of my dad. She wanted to take care of my dad 100% knowing she had loved ones next to her:
the testimony of my mom’s love for my dad is something I always have and always will ponder in my heart.
As things were moving forward, I was getting so afraid. Humanly speaking it was terrifying in all aspects: financially- it is taking care of two other people, time wise-how was I going to do it if I could hardly take care of my five kids, homeschooling, working, moving two houses by ourselves as we had no money to hire people.
Many “ifs” as we had nothing secure. Will the house sell on time? Will we find a home on time as the other is selling? What about finding a renting person on time? Will my 5 homeschooling children be okay with their personal issues? Will we find the right doctors for my parents? Will they like the house? Will we all get along? Will my husband’s work situation be ok? When my dad’s Alzheimer’s advances, what if his actions become inappropriate with five young kids running in the house all the time? HOWEVER, it is amazing how God works in the midst of our human craziness, anxieties, burn outs. I marvel that my husband and I found interior peace deep inside. For me, I felt I was always walking on water not knowing when I was going to drown, yet knowing God was with us and was in charge of it all… we were just being his instruments.
You are probably thinking that my dad and I always had a great and loving relationship. When I tell you, “I am the baby of the family and the only girl, with three older brothers,” what are you thinking? Let me guess. “Oh, she was spoiled and especially by dad; she was a daddy’s girl,” and so on. Surprise surprise, the theory of Freud fails here. It was strange but my dad did the opposite. Why? Not sure. But I grew up always with the feeling of a harsh father and some negative sentiments because of it.
Now that he has passed away, I see the incredible dad he was. I am finding things I did not know or did not ponder about him. I get to see all the good he did to me and others. We all have faults and must forgive as Jesus has forgiven us. My dad was not a person who liked to read much; I always had the idea that he never read a book at all. Now to my surprise, I open a book I found at my house, and it is dedicated to me: in his handwriting he says in Spanish that he is giving me this book hoping it will help me as much as it helped him. He wrote also that the book was in Spanish so that I could improve my reading and grammar in Spanish while I read it. In my wildest dreams I never would have thought that my dad would give me a book dedicated to me and that he cared about my grammar in Spanish (he never seemed to care much about my studies; I always had to fight for my school education).
Having my dad living with me for the last year of his life has been one of the greatest gifts God has given me. What all started as a fear, a sacrifice… it ended with amazing graces that are hard to write on paper or describe. Many people had suggested that I put my dad or parents in a retirement home, that it was the best thing as I needed to take care of my family and could not put that burden on them. I refused the idea of my parents being taken care of by strangers. I am sorry to say this but it seems that, as our parents grow old, they become an obstacle instead of a means to grow in love. We must not put someone aside because they cannot give us something in return. Our parents took care of us from living in the womb of our mother, through toddlerhood, kids, teens, young adult. And now because we have our lives and they do not give us more, or we do not need them, we put them in the corner or do not make the time and sacrifice to give them what they need. We live in a word so centered on only ourselves, in “ego”. My husband and I knew that what my dad needed the most was LOVE, especially from his family. His age, diabetes, and Alzheimer’s was not going to heal, so only love could make him happier during his last years to live (never thinking God would take him so soon after we moved).
I have to be honest, at the beginning we all had to adjust to a new place, living together, new situations: two families, who each have their own habits, discipline or way of doing things, coming together under one roof. It was stressful for the nine of us. This was only overcome by praying together as one family and constant communication. Now as I ponder and write these lines, I have to say that I understand why God put our husbands/men as the heads of the family. I have not been anti-feminist--or whatever it is now called--but every time there was a big discussion or fight in the house for any reason, it was my dad (even in his condition) or my husband that brought peace and knew concretely what to say. We women always want to fix it all and think we know it all. Well, I should not make it plural, but certainly I do.
Moreover, you never notice simple things until they are missing. My dad used to come out of his room in the morning with a big smile and enthusiasm to see us. He already had a very hard time walking, getting dressed… but he made such an effort to see us in the morning before we had to go somewhere and always asked what time we would be back home. Just a side note, another reason I love homeschooling is that we got to spend time with my dad and see him more; if my kids had to go to school then to sports, they would have not had a chance to truly be with him. My dad sometimes would sit with us in the homeschooling room and just be with us--it was nice and cute. Plus we got to eat with him as a big family together every day more than once.
It was amazing how my kids could make him smile, dance or do funny things. He even helped in the garden or yard outside. Once, one of my boys was having a hard time picking up leaves in a the fall so, to motivate him, my dad actually bent down with difficulty, got some leaves, and put them away with a smile. He did this so my son would follow his example.
I could keep writing about these times with my dad, but I don’t want to make it longer, plus I am not a writer by nature. One thing I could conclude and suggest with my poor experience is this: do not wait till the last moment to see the best of the ones you love, especially your family members. DO NOT keep grudges; they are not worth it at all. We are all sinners. We must forgive and give the love of Jesus just as Jesus has taught us with His example and words. See the beauty and good of all people, especially your dad, mom, brothers, sister… family members. They all have good in them; God made them; never forget that Jesus lives in them.
I had the biggest grace to be able to give my dad many last hugs, kisses, feed him, even pick him up in the middle of the night in his diaper, all skinny, shivering of cold and pain, taking care of him in his best and worse times. I am not sure why some people do not like to see the elderly? It is an experience of pure love: the elderly have wisdom and love. With my dad, the older he got, the more fragile he was, the more beauty I saw in him. At his death bed he was not handsome, nor had the best clothes… but his beauty came from his soul and what comes from above. His skinny but beautiful face will remain in my mind and heart forever. He could not speak or hardly open his eyes, but I would hold his hands and he would press hard on mine, letting me know that he knew I was there, and thanking me. He always made the joke that, if you go out with me somewhere, you will always get to say the Rosary. The last thing I did with him, surrounded by my husband, kids, and mom, was say the Rosary. My dad was right, he did get the Rosary prayer at the end of his life.
Another amazing thing is that a day before his death, my penance in the confessional was to pray the Divine Chaplet. Night came, and I still had not done my penance. So at night, while my family was watching a movie, I decided to take the opportunity while no one needed me to go beside my dad in his hospital bed and say the Divine Chaplet aloud. I knew he could not say it with me, but he could hear me. Praying this prayer just beside him with his eye closed helped me tremendously to see God’s infinite mercy; it allowed me to truly forgive my dad in all that I was holding onto. To see all his love as a father towards me in all these years, I did not see my dad as a harsh dad anymore but as a caring and loving father. Thank you, God, for this amazing grace.
My last words to my dad were spoken in that moment of grace: without knowing he would die about 20 minutes afterwards, I said, “THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING, I LOVE YOU DAD”! Then I kissed his forehead and left. The next thing I knew, the hospice nurse is calling out to me from his room to where I sat at our dining table with my mom talking about my dad, letting us know that his heart and breathing had just stopped. So we ran to the room. And it was true. He was gone. I could not believe it. I was so mad at myself as I had wanted to pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet again with him and spend more time with him. I had been out running all day to my kids’ activities and finding out about the funeral in case he died soon. However, God immediately gave me the grace to know and feel my dad’s presence. So I asked my family to pray aloud all together the Divine Mercy Chaplain for him. So we did, all of us. I held his hand and he did not press anymore as he used to as now he was dead, but I knew he was smiling and giving me thanks for all of us. I did not need his hand pressing on me because his presence was real. He was just getting ready to go to the Father in Heaven.
A friend of mine recommended that after my dad died to take some time with him alone and to make sure I let my mom be by herself with him as well. This advice was extremely wise, and I truly recommend it as well. I went in the room, seeing him just as when I had prayed the Divine Chaplet the day before, but now with no noise of his breathing or heartbeat, just him lying in the hospital bed with his eyes closed (he died with his eyes closed.) I started to talk to him and cry like never before. I knew his soul was still there: he was present so I got to talk to him like never before. It was a union I cannot explain, but I knew he has forgiven me and I have forgiven him and only love remains.
I started to Thank Jesus from the bottom of my heart and soul for dying on the Cross for us; if He had not my dad had no chance to go heaven. I did not want my dad to suffer more. Now I could say I understand the mystery of Jesus’ birth, death, and resurrection. If God did not send His only Son to die on the cross for us, we would not be able to go to heaven. Do we truly understand what Jesus did for us? I want to SHOUT, SHAKE people so they understand what Jesus did for us. If we understand that we are born to die and go to heaven for all eternity (no end), we would go to Mass more often or always go where we find our Beloved who we will meet in eternity. When you love someone, it is not enough to just talk to him but of ultimate importance is to be with him/her. Well, the same with God: at every Holy Mass He is there, PRESENT in BODY and SOUL giving Himself to us so we can be close to Him. He does it for us, not for Himself. When will we understand this?
Oops, I said I will not write more. Ok, just a few more sentences.
Bear with me!
God’s plans are astonishing. When we found our home in Fort Worth I did not understand why, as it was far from our friends. I miss my friends very much. However, we started looking for a parish my dad could go close by as the parish we went to was far away. We found the Catholic Church of Saint Mary the Virgin close to the house, or better say God gave it to us. From the first time my dad took his first steps into the parish, he loved it, even though all was in English (he was used to going to Mass in Spanish). But he loved the fervor of the Holy Mass. As well, it reminded him of when he was a child and was an altar boy in a traditional Mass. Plus, Fr. Stainbrook took my dad and our family under his wings as a true spiritual father.
On Christmas it took my poor dad a huge effort to make it to Mass, but he did so in his wheel chair. After Mass when Father blessed him, tears started to come out of my dad’s eyes (he never cried in front of anyone), but I know my dad knew it was his last Mass. On Dec 28 Father came to our house to give him the Last Rites, plus he took the time to talk to each one of us. The next day my dad died. We are extremely thankful for Fr. Stainbrook, as without out him my dad would not have died in the state of grace. The funeral Mass and reception was precious, just the way my dad would have liked it. All thanks to St. Mary the Virgin church. Now I understand why God brought us to this house, even though we miss our friends.
It is amazing how the world invites us to always plan all ahead and have it all under control. Some people asked me, “What happens if your dad dies; how will you pay for it; do you have a funeral home; does he have life insurance?” All the issues that come with bringing home your elderly parents. I had thought about it but did not have the answers. I just knew that I had to do the first step, which is bringing my parents home to take care of them. The rest God will show us the way. It is ALL a miracle how it all happened:
getting the house, moving, getting the COVID at the right time, the way my dad died, finding the funeral. My dad’s wish, which my mom told me as I had no clue, was to be cremated and put in a church where they have the columbarium. I had no idea that actually existed at churches. I always had the idea that to be cremated was not the ideal--or at least for myself I did not want that at all. However, I went to ask Fr. Christopher if he knew of a place. To my huge surprise he told me, we have it here at St. Mary the Virgin Catholic Church. The moment those words came out of his mouth I immediately felt interior peace and thanked God. I could not believe that in the same church my dad loves and we are parishioners they have this. I called my mom right away with the news; she also reacted with such joy.
Saint Thomas funeral home helped us very much as well to have it all done. On the very day that I spoke to them in the afternoon, my dad died that night. So all was arranged that same day. How many times the only thing that God ask is to just TRUST in HIM. He has it all worked out. The only thing He asks for is to follow His will.
I want to finish by giving thanks to my mom, husband, kids, family, brothers, my friends, Catholic and homeschooling community, who have made all this possible. And as well our Realtor Mr. Putera who made our home a reality. All of you have been an instrument of God; without your support and help in every way (financial, meals, food, encouragement and especially prayers, we would not have been able to do it). And I thank God for my Mom is still living with us.
And remember we DO NOT take anything with us to heaven, except our love for God and what we did for others. We worry so much about the material things, but what about our souls? All will be gone; nothing will stay on this earth, but our souls and resurrected body will be for eternity. We are born to live for ETERNITY with GOD!
