The False Ducks Blahg

      I’ve written many sad blahgs but this is one that I am not looking forward to writing. My father, George Arthur Henderson passed away January 19th, 2019. He was 81. Dad was born on May 24th, 1937. He would have been 82 this year.  I had previously written about the health issues my Father suffered after falling and breaking his hip June 1st, 2018.  You can read about that in my blahg “WHAT HAPPENED TO MR HENDERSON?”. 

     To finish the story started in that blahg, things did not get much better.  My Father was in and out of the hospital several times.  He returned home in mid-October with nursing and psw support but his health didn’t improve.  Equipment malfunctioned and he still had to have a feeding tube, a catheter, and was bed-ridden.  I’m sure he enjoyed the times he was home but internally, things were not good.  He returned to the hospital before Christmas and didn’t come home again until just before the New Year. 

     My Father had become very anemic and required blood transfusions on at least two occasions.  He had ulcers on his rear end that widened and never healed.  The week before he died I became very concerned that home wasn’t the right place for him and that it was also taking a toll on my Mother’s health.  My Mother and I had fought about him going back to the hospital and possibly going into long-term care.  It was not a pleasant time but finally she agreed and my Father went back to the hospital on January 17th with the intention that he would hopefully improve enough in the hospital with the eventuality of going into long-term care. 

     Around lunch time on the 17th I was called by the hospital and was asked to come and meet with the Doctor as she had some concerns about the care my Father was receiving.  I was prepared for an argument because we had provided good care for my Father but I clearly blamed Belleville General Hospital for what had happened to my Father from June of 2018 to January of 2019.  I was not prepared to hear what the Doctor really wanted to tell me. 

     When I met with the Doctor she showed my the large ulcers on my Father’s rear end and went over the list of health issues.  Then she asked me what was I keeping him alive for because there was no quality of life for him.  She even said if it were her own Father like this that she would let him go.  I was devastated.  I needed to take a moment to process this but she immediately asked who was the Power of Attorney for my Father.  I said it was me.  She said then I had to make the tough decision.  I didn’t hesitate.  I couldn’t allow my Father to continue to suffer.  I agreed to the recommedation to stop his feeds and all medications except something for pain.  She left the room after telling me that Dad would probably only last a few more days.  She said she was going to get another Doctor to come and talk to me. 

     After the Doctor left the room, I went over and talked to my Dad.  I asked him if he had heard what we discussed and he said yes.  I then said that if we continue on this course that he would die in a few days.  I asked him if he was ready for that.  He said yes.  Throughout all that time since his fall he never once talked about giving up.  I had asked him the hard question a few times and he always said he wanted to live.  This time he knew it was time to move on.  I bawled my eyes out. 

     Soon after, Doctor Webster came in to see me.  She had treated Dad four years earlier when he had broken his other hip but with better results.  I liked Doctor Webster.  She was very gentle and kind and she agreed with everything the other Doctor had told me.  She agreed there was no quality of life.  I told her that my Dad had basically told me he was ready to die.  I didn’t stay long after that.  I left and contacted my siblings and let them know.  I later met with my Mother and let her know.  It was one of the toughest things I had ever done. 

     I visited Dad in the hospital again the next day, Friday.  They had just given him something for pain but he was able to communicate a little with me.  I said “a glass of rye would probably be good about now.”  He said “yeah”.  He then mumbled something that sounded like “how are  you doing?”  I began to sob and tell him I wasn’t doing so well because I was losing my Dad.  I pulled back the covers to grasp his hand.  He was startled a little bit so I made a joke and said “calm down, I’m not getting in the bed with you.”  He smiled.  It was the last laugh between us.  He drifted in and out after that and there was no more communication. 

     On Saturday January 19th, my wife and I took my Mother up to say goodbye to my Father.  It was a very emotional time for us all.  Luckily my two brothers, Chris who lives in Ohio and Tim working in the Northwest Territories, had managed to make into Belleville to say goodbye to Dad.  They arrived when I was there with Mom.  Dad never spoke and he just stared off but he would raise his eyebrows whenever we spoke to him.  I think he heard us.  My other siblings also saw Dad on Saturday.  Just after 11pm, I received a call that Dad had passed away.  The Doctor was right, it had only been a couple of days.  Dad was on his final journey. 

     The next few days were very busy and very difficult.  Mom had said that Dad wanted to be cremated and she didn’t want any service.  Tim and I met with Quinte Cremation and handled everything.  We would eventually receive Dad’s ashes in a nice urn shaped like a deer.  We all agreed that Dad would have liked that.  Throughout that time I had been torn with guilt because as the Power of Attorney I had had to make that tough call to end treatment for Dad.  I had copies of the Will and Power of Attorney and it took me three days to find those copies.  When I did, I discovered there was also a Living Will that Dad had signed stating that if he ever was so ill that there was no chance of recovery or quality of life that we were to discontinue treatment and let him die.  I can tell you after reading that, a big weight was lifted.  I had honoured Dad’s wishes. 

     My Father was the last of his family.  His parents and siblings were all gone and the baby of the family was the last to go.  Here is the obituary that was posted for Dad:

George Arthur Henderson

HENDERSON, George Arthur – Of Belleville. Passed away at the Belleville General Hospital on Saturday January 19th, 2019 in his 82nd year. Son of the late Charles and Ada Henderson. Beloved husband of Sharron Nadine Henderson (Seeley). Dear father of Timothy Henderson (Rebecca Cameron) of Orleans Ontario, Todd Henderson (Tammy Thrasher) of Belleville, Scott Henderson (Jeanette) of Demorestville, Wanda Foley (Mike) of Wallbridge, Daniel Henderson (Debby) of Belleville, and Christopher Henderson (Valerie) of Hamilton, Ohio. Predeceased by his brother Claire Henderson, and by his sisters Helen Bradshaw and Muriel Grimpson. Loved by his several grandchildren and great grandchildren. In keeping with George’s wishes, cremation has taken place, and there will be no visitation or service. Donations to the charity of choice would be appreciated. Online condolences can be made at www.quintecremationservices.com

 

     I think that’s enough of all that.  Instead I want to share some photos of my Dad.  It’s tough because I don’t have many photos of my Dad.  I’m sure my Mother has some but I wanted to go with ones as they related to me.  The earliest I have in my possession is this one taken at the reception after my wedding to Jeanette on May 30th, 1987.  It’s a nice photo of both of my parents: 

 

The next photo was taken at my brother Chris’ wedding to Valerie in I believe 2004: 

Then there’s a photo of Mom and Dad at my other brother Dan’s wedding to Debbie around 2008: 

The picture below is a nice photo of Dad taken at the Celebration of Life for my Aunt Helen who passed away in 2016:

Next is a great photo of Mom and Dad with all their children on the occasion of Dad’s 80th Birthday in 2017: 
From left to right, Scott (me), Dan, Wanda, Tim, Mom, Todd, Dad, and Chris. My niece Keri is in the background in the purple dress.

The following photo I believe is one of the last photos taken of my parents together in August 2017.  This was taken on the occasion of my nephew Christopher’s wedding:

     I think that’s really all I want to post of photos.  Now onto some memories.  I have two special memories of my Dad.  When I was a kid, my Dad was a big fan of Stompin’ Tom Connors and I loved his music, too.  When Stompin’ Tom came to Belleville in the late 1960s or early 1970s, I begged my Dad to take me but I think he thought I was too young.  He took my two older brothers Tim and Todd and they weren’t even fans.  When Stompin’ Tom came again to Belleville in 1999 I got good seats and Dad and I went together.  It was a great concert and a great time. 

     My second favourite memory is of going to the movies with my Dad and my Uncle Rod (who sadly passed away last year) to see Walt Disney’s Snowball Express.  It became one my Dad’s favourite movies and I remember buying him VHS and DVD copies of this movie.  It’s still one of my favourites too.  We had a great time at the movies and it was one of the last movies my Dad saw in the movie theatre.  The last movie my parents saw together was The Exorcist from 1973.  They went with some relatives and friends.  Dad thought it was a comedy.  That was George Henderson for you. 

     Because there were no services for Dad I didn’t get to share any of these memories or to share a poem that was special to me about a poet’s Father and death.  I’ll share it now: 

 

WHEN MY FATHER WENT TO WALES

 

When my father went to Wales in ’61

for his father’s funeral

I was twelve

and knew nothing.

 

Death was real but remote,

like the origin of the world

or the Ed Sullivan Show.

But having touched my father

death became a constant

in my world. Having taken his father

my own was suddenly vulnerable

to that theft, and from then on

I guarded him with the magic

of a twelve-year-old: words,

 

things, the power of thought

unknown to him kept him free

of that other’s possession.

 

Once he came close to falling;

 

I forgot or relaxed or was distracted

and he glimpsed his father’s world.

 

Never again would I be so negligent.

 

And though he will fall, as he must,

into his father’s arms,

 

I know it will not be the magic’s fault

or mine, or anything to do with failure.

 

He will fall as we all must

into a world which was once his own,

and seeing his old man again

he will be happy, and happy

will turn to brace his arms

for me, following.

 

—Dermot McCarthy,  Canadian poet

 

I think I would have liked to have read that poem but if I’m being honest, I think my Dad would have rather I read from his favourite poems:

 

I found my thrill
On Blueberry Hill
On Blueberry Hill
When I found you

The moon stood still
On Blueberry Hill
And lingered until
My dream came true

The wind in the willow played
Love’s sweet melody
But all of those vows you made
Were never to be

Though we’re apart
You’re part of me still
For you were my thrill
On Blueberry Hill

The wind in the willow played
Love’s sweet melody
But all of those vows you made
Were only to be
Though we’re apart
You’re part of me still
For you were my thrill
On Blueberry Hill

BLUEBERRY HILL by FATS DOMINO

     All those years of listening to Stompin’ Tom Connors and country music growing up and I didn’t realize until I was into my twenties that Dad was a Fats Domino fan.  It came on the radio one time and he said that was his favourite song.  I don’t know if it remained his favourite but I’m going to play my Dad out with that song.  Rest in peace Dad, I Love You.

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