FocusOnTheFamily

Until their last breath

Written by Bonnie Shoemaker

He was gone. I stared in disbelief, tightly grasping his hand, now lifeless and cool. I gazed upon the remains of the man who had brought stability to my life – the best father a girl could ever ask for. The hospice nurse gently checked his vital signs to call the time of death. “He’s gone,” she said softly. Tears streamed down our faces.

Four and a half months of attending to my father’s every need had absorbed my time and energy. The roller-coaster ride had come to an abrupt end, and I didn’t know if I was prepared to get off.

I can do this

The term caregiver took on new meaning after a diagnosis confirmed that my father had metastatic malignant melanoma. As a registered nurse with experience in oncology, I was fully prepared to provide end-of-life care. I was familiar with the dying process, so I knew what to expect. Caring for Dad was right up my alley – but little did I know the toll it would take.

We discussed our options with hospice, making sure Dad was involved in any decisions. He hesitantly agreed to move to be closer to my sister and me. Within a few days, life changed for all of us.

The reality of daily care became arduous, challenging me in ways I never expected. Dad was dependent on us for everything from using the bathroom to wheelchair transfers.

How much longer?

Three months passed, and anger was building inside of me. Why was God making him suffer this long? Every morning I awoke wondering if it would be Dad’s last day. The pressure of caring for him became more intense, both emotionally and physically. Everyone walked on eggshells. My sister and I started to fight, letting our emotions take control.

As I slowly dragged myself out of bed one morning, my heart was heavy with shame at my weakness. I called hospice to speak with a physician we had known for years. I wanted answers. How much longer did she think he would hang on? Two months? Four months? I didn’t know if I could handle the stress.

She gave me advice that I’ll never forget. “Don’t think about surviving two months from now. It’ll drive you crazy,” she said. “Wake up every morning and pray the Lord will get you through this one day.” I took her advice to stop feeling burdened and prayed every morning for God’s strength to make it through, putting all my frustrations, shortcomings and weaknesses in His hands.

As the days went on and my father became unresponsive, the reality that he was dying sank in. I had been so caught up in my own stress of caregiving, I began wishing for a little bit longer with him, one more I love you.

The end

The inevitable came at 3:25 a.m. My wonderful father went to his heavenly home. No more suffering, no more pain.

Seven months later, my mother became ill and everything started over again. I was prepared to do the Lord’s work, honour my mother as I did my father, this time taking it one day at a time. She passed away 13 months after my father. I thank the Lord every day that I was present when my parents took their last breaths.

Until now, I couldn’t understand the meaning of finding joy when encountering trials (James 1:2-4). Though being a caregiver was difficult, months later, all the stress of that time is inconsequential. Wonderful memories remain and my faith is stronger. I now comprehend how God provides the strength and grace to endure any trial.

Bonnie Shoemaker, a registered nurse, lives in Ft. Myers, Florida, with her husband, Steve.

© 2008 Focus on the Family. All rights reserved. International copyright secured. Used by permission.

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