associated in random thought

surely goodness and mercy.

james adcock 1946-2006

while helen and i toasted local brews with kevin at mccreary's pub in franklin, tn, our friend jim let go. he chose a saturday evening, when everyone was out living their lives to do it. a few weeks ago, while he was still lucid, he told us not to worry about holding vigil for him at the hospital. "you've got your lives to live," he said. "don't worry about me so much." this was the day he told us he was going to hospice.

jim still had fire in his eyes that day, and he held both our hands with a strong man's grip. he asked us to join him in prayer before we left. and with the eloquence of a longtime baptist, he bowed his head, closed his eyes, and prayed for his dear lord to help him "do this thing in a gentlemanly manner...with the grace you expect of me."

and then helen and i both kissed jim's head, and told him we loved him. his eyes were teary, and i wiped them away. he was afraid; he didn't want to die so soon, and suddenly he had a family around to hold his hand.

once he got to hospice, jim was allowed to be comfortable. tom brought moe, who was ecstatic to see his daddy and lick all over his hands and bare feet. helen helped him smoke one last cigarette, which he thoroughly enjoyed. but. jim declined quickly.

by the third or fourth day, he was no longer lucid. we brought moe, who quickly took to licking his hands, and sleeping at the foot at his bed. i spent one night on the couch. helen and i played cards, listened to merle haggard, and joked with jim. i read psalms. we whispered in his ear, "it's okay to let go." when he'd become agitated, our mantra became: "relax. let go. relax. let go..."

the hospice, called christopher house, is funded largely by donations. jim, a long time buddy of willie nelson, spent his last days in the willie nelson room. when tom told him this, his eyes welled up with tears we couldn't interpret.

we will have a memorial service for our dear friend, who died in the most gentlemanly manner, tomorrow, at the dog meeting. and after a very long month, i hope that we will all somehow relax. and let go.
Posted by bananie at May 31, 2006 12:58 PM | TrackBack