My dad knew for months that he was near the end. That’s my final answer.
He began to enjoy the fruits of his labor the last 6 months of his life. He purchased a new truck, traveled, and in his words “blew the credit up.” Which simply meant he didn’t have a care in the world, if he wanted it, he was going to enjoy it. He knew that his illness was too far gone, and in his eyes there was no coming back.
I can remember my aunt having a similar story about my great aunt. My aunt would make sure that my great aunt always had audio tapes, or anything to occupy her time while working in her flea market. Then one day it changed…
One particular occasion my great aunt declined any new material. Her response was, “I don’t wanna watch any new movies, I’m going to read my bible.” Within a week, my great aunt was deceased.
I’ll never forget the year of 1999. Within six months I had attended four funerals. By the third funeral I was absolutely numb. I questioned why God was sending my family through such heartache. We weren’t prepared for all of this.
When my great-grandfather passed, my grandmother told me that he waved his final boarding ticket, and that it was time for him to get on the train to eternity. It was the perfect metaphor for a 15 year old to grasp the concept of death.
Sometimes they just know, and sometimes we choose to ignore the signs. I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s unlike a written test for school. No amount of preparation can assist with losing someone that you truly love.
The only prescription is: Faith and One day at a time.