He Did It His Way, Always

My dad was quite the man. To his grandchildren, he was the last John Wayne. He carried several handguns when he traveled, as well as binoculars and perfectly folded maps. My dad was an old-fashioned country boy.

He had grown up and lived in the same small county in Iowa his entire life. He was a husband, father and upstanding businessman in his community. We all loved and adored Johnny Joe Johnson.

In his final days on the earth, we gathered around him to cherish and reminisce. He was placed on hospice and spent several days in a room in the hospital just a few miles from my parents' home.

My mom, brother and myself had spent every possible hour, sitting with my dad at the hospital. We took turns going to the house, to shower, eat and rest. We held a round-the-clock vigil for three days, one or more of us always at his side.

On March 27th, 2015 my brother and I spent the night in my dad’s room, chatting and laughing and taking turns sleeping. It was the day before my 48th birthday. A hospice nurse came into the room and asked us if we wanted a break. We declined, but the wear from lack of sleep and poor diet showed on our faces and she insisted we go freshen up. She promised she would be reading to dad and would keep us posted on any changes. We reluctantly agreed and left my father in the care of a stranger.

We went to my parents home but within thirty minutes the phone rang, the hospice nurse reported my dad had passed. Apparently, my father did not want to go while we were in the room. He was stubborn and loving like that. I laughed to myself as I hung up the phone, “the old coot did that on purpose.”

John Wayne until the last. I will see you again. Love you Dad!

The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life, by which one may avoid the snares of death. (Proverbs 14:27)

Happy Honeymooning!