It has been a difficult week for my family. Last Friday, May 7th, my grandfather, George Rhinehart (PopPop) went home to be with the Lord. For many years now he suffered from pulmonary fibrosis a condition where the lungs become scarred and because of this lung function is decreased. Early last week my family decided to take him to the hospital after as he put it, "was panting like a dog" for several days. During his hospital stay this time they decided to perform a cardio conversion because he heart had been out of rhythm for over a month. After the cardio conversion, which was successful on the first try, they discovered that the "panting like a dog" had caused his heart to become weakened.
Thursday I was about to head out of town with softball when I spoke with my mom who said that PopPop was not doing well. I went home and frantically began to pack while Bryce found and booked a flight for Jack and me. We left for Maryland and arrived late Thursday night. We went straight to the hospital and I got to see PopPop. He was weak and it was hard for him to breath and talk, but we had a nice little conversation. The nurses however would not let me take Jack back to see him. PopPop even asked me where Jack was and I said he was here but they would not let me bring him back. He said I bet they would if you asked. It broke my heart at the time because I really wanted PopPop to meet Jack, but I had to tell him that we already asked and they said no.
Friday we got to the hospital in the afternoon and spent the day crying, laughing, praying, reading scripture and singing. PopPop was surrounded by his family all day and it was really special. The doctor came and spoke with MomMom, Mom and her sisters around 4:30, they decided that it was best to take him off the various medications and just administer comfort care. On Thursday PopPop had already said he was at peace and ready. Shortly after they met with the doctor, I spoke with one of the nurses and she let me bring Jack back to see PopPop. It was truly a special moment! It was just after they administered the morphine, I came in and said PopPop, Jack is here to meet you. He opened his eyes and smiled the biggest smile. PopPop loved babies and I know he would have loved Jack all the more had they gotten to spend time together. That was a moment I will never forget! Pretty much right after he saw Jack, he closed his eyes and rested peacefully until he passed. It was amazing and refreshing to see him sleeping peacefully and breathing easily. He had struggled so for a while to get rest and catch his breath.
It was so hard to see PopPop lying in the hospital bed weakened and frail (well as frail as a man of 200 plus pounds gets), but even though that was my last memory of him, that is not how I will remember my PopPop. PopPop was strong, tenacious, hard-working, organized and a little stubborn. He was a wonderful husband to my grandmother and father to my mom and aunts. He was even a wonderful father figured to his sons-in-laws. He was the best PopPop a kid could ask for and I am sure his other 7 grandchildren would agree.
I leave you with this-a beautiful reading that my sister read at the funeral:
My dearest Pop Pop...
On the last night that you were here, we reminisced about all the memories we shared with you. And although I loved listening to these memories and took comfort in them, I am heartbroken to know that certain things will never happen again.
Never again will I see your handsome face.
Never again will I see your beautiful white hair.
Never again will I see a bag of your tomatoes sitting on my parents' kitchen counter.
Never again will I hear your deep, comforting voice.
Never again will I go to your house and find you sitting in the computer room.
Never again will I hear you complain about how badly the Orioles are playing.
Never again will you ask me how my car is running.
Never again will you carve the turkey on holidays.
Never again will I hear you sing one of your songs like “Here Comes Santa Claus”.
Never again will you sit at the head of the table at family dinners.
Never again will Drew, Mandie, Kristin and I take you out to Red Lobster.
Never again will I see you sitting in your chair outside your garage.
Never again will I receive a card signed “Love, Mom Mom and Pop Pop”
Never again will you tell someone they have about 6 inches on each side of the car when parking in your garage.
Never again will the girls receive boxes of Whitman's chocolates at Christmas.
And never again will I receive a warm hug from my beautiful Pop Pop who loved us all so much.
But as devastated as I will be, I would gladly trade it all just so that you are at peace and no longer suffering. It would have been selfish for me to ask you to stay, but I can take comfort in knowing these things...Never again will your heart go out of rhythm. Never again will you have trouble walking. Never again will you need an extra blanket because you are cold. And never again will you struggle to take your next breath.
I found this poem and thought of you:
When I come to the end of the road
and the sun has set on me,
I want no rites in a gloom filled room,
why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little--but not too long,
and not with your head bowed low,
Remember the love that we once shared,
miss me--but let me go.
For this is a journey that we all must take,
and each must go alone.
It's all a part of the Master's plan,
a step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick of heart,
go to the friends we know.
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds,
miss me--but let me go.
To my family...I would like to leave you with these thoughts. In the last few years of my grandfather's life he did not want to use a wheelchair, his oxygen, nor did he want to be in the hospital. It is now my belief that as much as he suffered and knew that he needed these things to improve his quality of life; his greatest fear was that his family would always remember him that way. He wanted to spare us from seeing him the way we had not known him to be.
Well, Pop Pop, no worries. For we do not think of you as that person, but rather the strong, independent, and heroic man that you truly were. Over time, your body became weak and it just could not keep up with your relentless spirit. It was not important how you died, but rather how you lived. While we were sitting together for the last time, I told you that death would not conquer you. Your earthly body may be withered and gone, but your precious soul will remain in the lives of your loving family. You were a gardener, growing both tomatoes and love. And while the tomatoes eventually perish, the seeds of love that you have planted in our family will flourish and remain everlasting. For it is in our hearts that you will remain immortal and eternally be our beloved Pop Pop.
On Friday May 7th 2010, with family lovingly by his side, God saw my grandfather's weary face, took him by the hand and said, “come home”.
