Dust to Dust

In the sweat of your face you shall eat bread till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return. Genesis 3:19

Our Pastor referenced this passage yesterday during Papa Bud's memorial service.

My two older sons and I sat by his grave until he was completely buried.

As the North Carolina red clay dirt swirled around us I felt so honored to be able to do this one last thing for Papa.

How precious a memory that I will carry in my heart that Papa Bud was never left alone from the time he was hospitalized to the time he was buried.

Someone from our family was always standing watch over him.

What an honor to be able to see this wonderful man all the way to his journey home.

Last Friday night as I sat by his feet at Moma Jo's house I had no idea this was to be the last time I would ever see him sitting in his chair.

He was so sick. He was confused from the trip to the doctor that day. They had told my Mom that they were going to have Hospice come Monday to get Papa comfortable. The end was near.

He was looking out of his window and I told him, "It's a pretty day outside isn't it, Papa......but you have had a hard day haven't you"?

He nodded and then said directly to me, "Yeah, but I'm going home soon".

"You are"? I replied.

"Yes", he said. "Thats my truck in the driveway" he told me and he pointed to the driveway.

Papa hasn't had a truck in more than 3 years.

But at that moment I had no doubt Papa was going to go home---heaven---and his truck WAS sitting out there for him to see even if I couldn't.

I wiped tears away and kissed his face. I told him, "You are so handsome, Papa".

"I love you" I told him.

"I love you too darlin'" he said as I left.

We drove away, me and the kids and we were all crying. The end was coming.

On early Saturday morning Papa's doctor called Moma Jo. He told her Papa's blood tests had come back and revealed an infection. He would need to be rushed to the hospital.

We were hopeful that the infection could be treated with antibiotics....that maybe even if by curing the infection, his memory would strengthen.....maybe he would even feel like walking again.

As I entered room 8156 at Forsyth Hospital--so hopeful--my mom's face ended all hope.

She ushered me into the hallway. Her face was swollen and her cheeks were tear stained.

"He is in the last stages of kidney failure. He does not have long" she said.

And thus began my journey into what has been the longest, yet not long enough in some aspects, week of my life.

Seeing my Papa Bud off into his wonderful journey to heaven and all the Glory that surely greeted him took less than five days.

I wake up missing him.