Lake Pardise

By Larry Bielat

In the summer of 1982, Jim Bradley is diagnosed with cancer. When surgery is unsuccessful, he is given six months to live and placed in a nursing home. He hates the nursing home and wants to leave, but his son tells him he has to stay. When Jim’s grandson, Scott, comes to visit, Jim convinces him to break him out of the nursing home and take him to his summer cabin at Lake Paradise. Scott is willing to give up a semester of college to help his grandfather, but is he really able to take care of a dying man? Lake Paradise is the story of a man living out the remainder of his life the way he lived it when he was healthy—with dignity—and the people whose lives he impacts as he struggles to face the end his way…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Black Opal Books
• Release date: Jul 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9781626949584

Book preview

In the summer of 1987, Jim Bradley is diagnosed with cancer. When surgery is unsuccessful, he is given six months to live and placed in a nursing home. He hates the nursing home and wants to leave, but his son tells him he has to stay. When Jim’s grandson, Scott, comes to visit, Jim convinces him to break him out of the nursing home and take him to his summer cabin at Lake Paradise. Scott is willing to give up a semester of college to help his grandfather, but is he really able to take care of a dying man?

Lake Paradise is the story of a man living out the remainder of his life the way he lived it when he was healthy--with dignity--and the people whose lives he impacts as he struggles to face the end his way...

KUDOS FOR LAKE PARADISE

In Lake Paradise by Larry Bielat, Jim Bradley is dying of cancer. When surgery to remove it doesn’t work, he is given only six month to live and placed in a nursing home. He hates it there, but his son won’t hear of him leaving. So Jim convinces his grandson, Scott, to spring him and take him to his cabin at the lake so he can die where he wants to. But Scott is only a young college student and is not sure he can take care of a dying man. Both touching and heartbreaking, the story is as compelling as it is moving. A really good read. ~ Taylor Jones, The Review Team of Taylor Jones & Regan Murphy

Lake Paradise by Larry Bielet is the story of a man with terminal cancer who wants to die with dignity in his own home. Jim Bradley is given no more than six months to live. His doctor and son send him to a nursing home, but Jim hates it. He wants to go to his cottage at Lake Paradise. When his grandson Scott comes to visit him, Jim convinces him to help him escape the nursing home. They pick Jim’s dog from his neighbor in town and head for the lake. Scott’s father is furious but Jim is determined not to go back to the nursing home no matter what he has to do. Lake Paradise is both the story of a man who wants to die the way he has lived--with honor and dignity--and the story of a close-knit community that rises to the occasion to help one of their own. Poignant and charming, with marvelous characters, it will break your heart even as it warms it and lifts your spirits. ~ Regan Murphy, The Review Team of Taylor Jones & Regan Murphy

Lake Paradise

Larry Bielat

A Black Opal Books Publication

Copyright © 2018 by Larry Bielat

Cover Design by Jackson Cover Designs

All cover art copyright © 2018

All Rights Reserved

EBOOK ISBN: 978-1--626949-58-4

EXCERPT

He finally convinced his grandson to help him make a break for it. Now if they could just get out without getting caught...

This is working. I am about to be out of here! Jim thought.

The image of his cottage at Lake Paradise swept over him. He was ready to escape. He resisted the urge to leap out of the wheelchair and run. He and Scott were following the plan.

Scott unlatched the gate and guided Jim’s wheelchair through the walkway and down to the truck. Jim eased himself out of the chair while Scott opened the door and helped his grandfather into the passenger seat.

Throw the wheelchair in the back. I’ll need it, Jim whispered.

Scott didn’t waste time breaking it down. He flung it into the bed of the pickup and casually walked around to the driver’s side. Moon, outside on a break, looked up at the clatter, momentarily forgetting his cigarette.

Hey, where you guys goin’? Moon asked.

Scott stuck his head out the window. It’s okay, Moon. I’m taking Gramps over to Dr. Sam Bananas, and then we’re going to the clinic. The office okayed it. We’ll be back in time for supper. He gave Moon a half-smile. Unless we run into some girls.

Moon smiled, looking somewhat puzzled. Is that you, Mr. Jim? You okay?

Jim gave him a thumbs up.

You have a good day, now. Moon gave Scott a smile. You take care of Mr. Jim, boy. We’ll see you later. He took one more puff on his cigarette and went through the back door.

Scott turned the truck around and headed down the drive.

Jim laughed one of those good belly laughs that hurt his incision. He grabbed his stomach, hitting Lois’ Bible. Tears of joy rolled down his cheeks. He was almost out of hell, and to the best of his knowledge, no one had ever escaped hell before.

Sam Bananas? Where did you come up with that, Scott?

Scott grinned. It’s an old college trick. It sounds like you know what you’re doing.

This book is dedicated to my late wife, Lois, and my four children: Jill, Jenny, Pam, and Scott

Author’s Note

Our lives take many twisted turns that we often don’t control. When the end draws near, we generally lose more control. Our final chapter is often directed by doctors, lawyers, or family. We spend our last days in a place we don’t want to be because it’s convenient. For some lucky few, an angel appears and helps us end our lives on our terms. Lake Paradise is such a story. Jim Bradley is dying, his young grandson, Scott, becomes his angel. We all should remind ourselves that people matter. All names in this story may sound familiar, but are fictitious.

Chapter 1

Bad News

Late Summer 1987:

Jim Bradley sat in silence at his kitchen table and stared at the clock above the kitchen sink. It read five-thirty a.m. He had been up for two hours. He showered, shaved, and dressed.

He looked around the kitchen at his departed wife’s cherished things. He left everything in the exact spot Lois kept them. He lost her five years ago to cancer, now the doctors told him he had the damn stuff.

Cancer, what an ugly word, he thought.

Waking early was part of Jim’s life. His job at the Dodge Truck factory for over three decades started at six-thirty a.m. Also, an avid fisherman and hunter, Jim prided himself on his ability to beat the morning sun. It was a daily ritual: coffee, breakfast, and the sports page of the Detroit Free Press--all before first light.

Surgery was scheduled for eleven a.m. Jim had packed his bag the night before. There was a shaving kit, clean socks and underwear, a couple of tee shirts, and his bath robe. He had no idea how long he would be in the hospital, so he stuffed in the last two issues of his favorite magazine, Michigan Outdoors. He was hungry and wanted a cup of coffee, but doctor’s orders were to be empty. So empty he was.

Jim’s golden Lab, Duffy, rested on the carpet by the backdoor, head on his paws, watching Jim intently. Duffy knew something was different this morning. He couldn’t smell the coffee, and his master wasn’t in his bathrobe, reading the paper. Duffy stretched and sauntered across the kitchen to brush his back along Jim’s leg. Jim gave Duffy a pat, to comfort himself as much as his canine companion.

The two had been best friends since Lois died. Jim would sit for hours and talk to Duffy, who always listened and occasionally nodded, as if in agreement. All Jim had to say was, Let’s go outside and catch a rabbit. Duffy would spring to his feet, sprinting to the back door, tail going crazy. When it was time to come in, the magic words were, Want a treat?

Duffy would hurry up the porch steps, head to the pantry door, and bark. Life with Duffy was easy.

Jim’s gaze fell on Lois’s Bible on the corner of her small desk under the kitchen window. It looked twice its original size, stuffed with her many treasures--pictures of the grand kids, special notes from friends, cards Jim had given her for Valentine’s Days, anniversaries, and even a few old love letters. There was a picture from their visit to New York in a birthday card from her mother. Lois saved everything.

An old letter sticking out of the top caught his eye. It was a letter he sent her back in 1944 from a foxhole in Germany. Wet and cold, he told her how awful war was and how scared he was. It was the letter when he had asked her to please wait for him. I’ll make it home! he wrote. I love you and want you to marry me. Please wait. I’ll make it back, I promise. When he wrote it, enemy fire had been falling around him. He hadn’t been sure if he could keep his promise.

The paper had yellowed over the years. Lois had read it so many times that the corners had become frayed. Jim gently slipped the faded note back in its place and carried the Bible to his duffel bag by the door. He slid it into the side compartment and zipped it closed.

He gave the house one last check, walked with Duffy through the dining room, where the family had celebrated so many special meals, and into the living room, where Lois had Jim set up the Christmas tree each November after Thanksgiving.

He went down the basement steps to his workshop and reading place. It was his space to hide out. Two jackets hung by the door at the top of the stairs, a heavy winter coat and a light spring jacket. He ran his fingers along the sleeves and wondered how many times he had shoveled snow in the heavy Mackinaw and had raked leaves and worked in his garden in the other. His hats were also there. There was the black cowboy hat he bought fifteen years ago when he and Lois visited the Grand Canyon. Next to it were four baseball caps: one with the Detroit Tiger Old English D, another for the Lions, and two green and white Michigan State caps.

At the bottom of the stairs, he reached up and pulled the string for the light bulb. He surveyed the many tools he collected over the years. Some were from his father-in-law, who was a carpenter. Some were from his dad. Some had been reclaimed from neighborhood yard sales. He never missed a garage sale, and he never came home empty handed. There was always an old saw or a jar of nails and washers for which he’d find a use.

The corners of his mouth curled up when he thought about the time he came home with three winter tires. How Lois had reprimanded him at his reasoning: The deal was too good to pass up. That was ten years ago. The tires were still in the garage.

His shop was neat. Everything had a place: tools hung from their designated hooks, odd screws sorted into jars by size and type, a binder held owner manuals, and wood remnants stacked on shelving in the corner.

An old overstuffed chair, with a blanket covering holes from years of use, sat in the corner next to a floor lamp--another garage sale find. Two stacks of books sat beside the