Walking With Families Through the Dying Process: Walking with Families, #1

By Patricia M. Robertson

Death comes to all of us but most are unprepared and unsure when it comes to that final journey. Robertson's book helps families that are facing the terminal diagnosis of a loved one. She provides insights into the dying process and tips how best to help families through this process. A valuable resource for families, counselors, ministers and lay people.

 

Patricia Robertson has a Doctor of Ministry and over thirty-five years' experience in ministry. During this time she has journeyed with many families through the death of a loved one. She is an author, speaker, and spiritual director, who is committed to helping individuals find God in their every day experience, including times of death and loss.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patricia M. Robertson
• Release date: Feb 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215626924

Patricia M. Robertson

Patricia M. Robertson is the author of fiction and non-fiction books as well as numerous articles all related to spirituality of the everyday. In her thirty-five years of ministry she has walked alongside many families amidst the crises that are part of life, helping them to regain their balance. She currently resides in Jackson, Michigan where she continues to unlock the extraordinary out of the ordinary..

Book preview

Introduction

It was a Sunday afternoon in September when the call came, Dad’s in the hospital again.

This was nothing new. Dad had been in and out of the hospital for the past two years. After a long rehab Dad had managed to make it home the past spring, able to maneuver his way around the house, relying on his arms to lift himself from chair to walker and hold him up as his reluctant legs carried him from room to room. Due to neuropathy he had lost feeling in his legs from his knees down. Still he managed to drag his lifeless legs through sheer stubbornness.

My parents had enjoyed the summer at home and were exploring the possibility of moving into a nearby retirement community.

How bad is it? I asked my brother. My mom had already declared my dad was on his deathbed repeatedly over the past two years. I could trust my brother to give it to me straight.

I don’t know.

Do I need to come right away or can I wait until tomorrow?

Tomorrow’s fine, he assured me. This gave me time to tie up loose ends before making the drive to my hometown.

When I got to the hospital on Monday, there was still hope that my dad, Lazarus-like, would rise again and be able to go home. By Tuesday, it was not looking good. My brother and I called family members, already on alert, and let them know that if they wanted to see Dad, this may be their last chance.

My sisters came the next day. I vacated my room at my parent’s house and stayed the night at the hospital. My dad’s doctor usually made his rounds early in the morning, sometimes before seven. If you missed him then, your chance to talk to him face-to-face was non-existent. I was determined to be there to talk to him about my dad’s prognosis.

I sat in the room with my dad until it seemed evident he was resting quietly and didn’t need my presence.

I love you, Dad, I told him as I gave him a kiss.

Love you too, Pat, he responded. I told him I would be close by in the family waiting room if he needed me. He told me to go ahead.

I was up by six and headed to my dad’s room only to find he had been moved to another room. My mom, brother and sisters arrived around six-thirty. I directed them to the new room, not wanting them to have to deal with the shock of an empty room.

We were there in time to catch the doctor. As we questioned him about options, including surgery, my sister asked, If this were your father, what would you do?

That’s a hard one to answer.

I know, she responded but didn’t let him off the hook.

He paused before saying, I would make him as comfortable as possible and let him go.

At this point my dad said, Let me go. We had our answer. There were tears all around, but we respected my dad’s wishes.

My other brother joined us later that morning. In the afternoon Dad was moved to another room in the hospital, a hospice room. From my experience I knew it could be any time or it could be days. My dad was in good hands with my sisters who were taking turns keeping watch with my mom. So my brother and I both drove home to sleep in our own beds that night.

When my sister called the next morning, I knew what she would tell me before she said it.

He’s gone, she said.

I made arrangements to miss work and cancelled my Sunday service at the retirement community where I served as chaplain. I was in the middle of teaching a five-week course on Death and Dying for the Masters in Counseling Program at Spring Arbor University. I knew it would be next to impossible to make up the eight-hour class. I notified my supervisor about what had happened and told him I would teach as long as I was able rather than cancelling.

I spent the day back in Alma as we planned out funeral arrangements, then came back home in order to teach on Saturday. Sunday I was back in