Frank
On June 11, Frank sat right over there, in about the second or third pew, and watched me baptize three of his ten great grandchildren. He was surrounded by family. In fact, it may have been the biggest crowd I've ever seen at a baptism. There were so many people that the reception was held at the banquet center on Telegraph because no one had a large enough house to have it.
On July 2, Frank sat in the shade at his granddaughter Kelley's house for the family Fourth of July celebration. He health hasn't been so good lately, so he sat there in the shade and people brought him anything he needed. I guess the best word to describe Frank would be patriarch. He sat there and admired his large family, surrounded by their love.
This Tuesday, August 2, the family gathered again. This time it was in the intensive care section of Missouri Baptist Hospital. They were about to take Frank off of life support. He had been sick before, but this time he wasn't going to get well.
Frank's family includes five children, fifteen grandchildren, and those ten great grandchildren. Most of them were there Tuesday evening. They barely all fit into the room. But, before disconnecting all the machines, the ICU staff invited the family into the room to say their goodbyes. And a remarkable thing happened. Frank opened his eyes.
He opened his eyes and looked at his family one last time. One by one, they approached the bed and squeezed his hand. "I love you Frank." "I love you dad." "I love you grandpa." And each time, he seemed to respond. He squeezed their hands back. He seemed to nod his head. He seemed to fight to keep his eyes open. Finally, after all the goodbyes had been said, the family went back to the waiting room.
I was allowed to stay in the room while the two nurses removed the respirator and all of the tubes and wires. They patiently explained each step to Frank so he would know what was going on. When they pulled the trach tube out of his throat, he let out what seemed to be a heavy sigh, as if to say, "Finally. Thank God it's almost over."
Once all the paraphenalia was removed, the family was allowed back into the room. For a while, Frank's body fought to stay alive. His heart rate dropped and then came back up again. Then a second time and a third. Finally, the heart rate monitor told the story; a few spikes and then a straight line. He was gone.
In today's readings we're warned that we'd better not let our neighbor lapse into sin. If he does, he will die. If we see him sinning and don't try to stop him, and he keeps sinning, he'll die and we'll be held responsible. If we do try to stop him and he keeps sinning, he'll die, but we'll be off the hook.
I think that's scary. Not only are we responsible for our own sins, we're responsible for keeping everyone around us from sinning, too. At least we have to try.
Once in a while you run into a man like Frank, who leads by example. He raised a large, very loving family, and showed them how to live a Christian life. He didn't have to tell them. He showed them. And at the important times in life, they were all there together. He touched a lot of lives.
If not for Frank, my son's wife, his granddaughter, would not have been born. And if Jen hadn't been born, my granddaughter wouldn't be here, the cutest baby ever. And for that, I'll always be greatful.
On July 2, Frank sat in the shade at his granddaughter Kelley's house for the family Fourth of July celebration. He health hasn't been so good lately, so he sat there in the shade and people brought him anything he needed. I guess the best word to describe Frank would be patriarch. He sat there and admired his large family, surrounded by their love.
This Tuesday, August 2, the family gathered again. This time it was in the intensive care section of Missouri Baptist Hospital. They were about to take Frank off of life support. He had been sick before, but this time he wasn't going to get well.
Frank's family includes five children, fifteen grandchildren, and those ten great grandchildren. Most of them were there Tuesday evening. They barely all fit into the room. But, before disconnecting all the machines, the ICU staff invited the family into the room to say their goodbyes. And a remarkable thing happened. Frank opened his eyes.
He opened his eyes and looked at his family one last time. One by one, they approached the bed and squeezed his hand. "I love you Frank." "I love you dad." "I love you grandpa." And each time, he seemed to respond. He squeezed their hands back. He seemed to nod his head. He seemed to fight to keep his eyes open. Finally, after all the goodbyes had been said, the family went back to the waiting room.
I was allowed to stay in the room while the two nurses removed the respirator and all of the tubes and wires. They patiently explained each step to Frank so he would know what was going on. When they pulled the trach tube out of his throat, he let out what seemed to be a heavy sigh, as if to say, "Finally. Thank God it's almost over."
Once all the paraphenalia was removed, the family was allowed back into the room. For a while, Frank's body fought to stay alive. His heart rate dropped and then came back up again. Then a second time and a third. Finally, the heart rate monitor told the story; a few spikes and then a straight line. He was gone.
In today's readings we're warned that we'd better not let our neighbor lapse into sin. If he does, he will die. If we see him sinning and don't try to stop him, and he keeps sinning, he'll die and we'll be held responsible. If we do try to stop him and he keeps sinning, he'll die, but we'll be off the hook.
I think that's scary. Not only are we responsible for our own sins, we're responsible for keeping everyone around us from sinning, too. At least we have to try.
Once in a while you run into a man like Frank, who leads by example. He raised a large, very loving family, and showed them how to live a Christian life. He didn't have to tell them. He showed them. And at the important times in life, they were all there together. He touched a lot of lives.
If not for Frank, my son's wife, his granddaughter, would not have been born. And if Jen hadn't been born, my granddaughter wouldn't be here, the cutest baby ever. And for that, I'll always be greatful.
posted by Mike at 7:00 PM
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