Farewell

I am in the hospital in San Antonio visiting my ill father for the last time before my wife and I return to our home in California - and for the last time before he returned home to the arms of God who first gave him life. My siblings who saw him daily had told me that the cancer seemed to be “in its final stages.” Yet I was shocked at his gaunt appearance. It was hard to see my father so weak. He had always been for me the very epitome of strength: of body, spirit, faith, integrity.

While his body was weak, his mind was sharp. So we spoke of love, of family, of the church, of God, of hope. In the last minutes before our final visit we recalled together the many years during which our family had what we called “evening devotions.” They were simple: a reading from the Bible, Martin Luther’s Evening Prayer, the Lord’s Prayer and the singing of an ancient hymn titled “Abide with Me.”
We agreed to repeat the ritual there in his hospital room. However, instead of just singing the first stanza of the hymn we sang the last stanza also. Dad’s voice was not only audible, it was strong. He sang not the melody line, but the strong tenor part. My wife Jane sang alto and together we ended our time together:

“Hold thou, thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies;
Heaven’s morning breaks and earth’s vain shadows flee;
In life (long pause), In death (another long pause)
Oh Lord, abide with me.”

It was my farewell and my intimation of when we’ll again say to each other, “Good Morning.”