JAY CLAUDE POWERS
JANUARY 10, 1917 - MARCH 6, 1984
I can look back and see that following my gut paid off in a big way concerning Dad's last year. In 1980 I was nagged by the feeling that I had to take "Hospice training" and get involved as a hospice nurse. I kept reading about it, a class was starting in the fall, and I "knew" I had to take the class. Not that I really "wanted" to do it, but had the feeling I HAD to do it. I took the training and was Simi's hospice nurse for a volunteer hospice for 2 years. I got a stipend of 200 dollars per month. There was no end to the new cases of dying people. People just would not stop getting seriously ill, calling hospice, and dying. It was a life-long learning experience to say the least. After 2 years, I burned out, partly because of the emotional toll, partly because it became one of THREE part time jobs I was trying to juggle, and I just felt I could not do it anymore.
Within one year after I left hospice work, Dad got ill. When it became clear his life was in danger, I suggested hospice be called for him in LA where he lived. We were at his Dr's office and Dad had told me I could ask the Dr about it for him. So... I says to the Dr in front of Dad... "Can you write an order for hospice consult for Dad?"...
And Dad says, as only Dad could do.... "Oh shit, I don't need no g**d*** hospice, I got Jaynie and she's gonna be my hospice nurse!" I protested saying I could not do that because I was his daughter, but the Dr says "You can do it" and inside I am screaming "NO, I CAN'T DO IT. LORD, TAKE ME FIRST AND GET ME OUT OF THIS!!!"
But, I learned that all things are possible to get through if I lean on The Lord for strength.
Dad died on his terms, just the way he lived. Start smoking at 13, why not? Drink alcohol every day by 17, why not?
I spent his last night in his home with Maria his wife, and Pooch, his dog. Dad got up under his own power to pee about an hour before he died, and spoke to us about 15 minutes before he died. What a gift to see him make the transition from his body to the next life look so easy. Although, as I sat near him that night he did say, "Jaynie, this is the hardest g**damn thing I have ever done."
That's all he'd say about it. When the 2 mortuary guys came to the house to remove his body, Pooch the dog, who was a fart-in-a-skillet (Dad's term for a thing that could not sit still)... Pooch barked and growled and tried to bite the guys so they would not get into Dad's room where he lay. Maria had to chase the dog, tackle him, put Pooch in a headlock and lock him in the other room.
I sure hope he has rested in peace since then. He'd hate the commie take over of his country lately; current events have me thinking a lot, "what would dad say about this?" and my answer usually ain't pretty, as those of you who knew Dad would know.
Anyway, RIP, DAD!
A quarter of a century has flown by... see you soon on the other side!
I remember.
4 comments:
Great post Aunt Jayne, I would love to have read for at least an hour more. I hope you and my mom write tons more like these, expecially since we don't get to go out to dinner and visit on a regular basis to hear stories. This is the kind of stuff that you don't have the attention span for in your teens, don't have to the time for in your 20's, but thrive on for more and more in your your 30's and I'm sure from here on. Then get to be the one telling in your...???What are you, early 50's?
Mom, I am shedding tears. Thanks so much for sharing. I remember when you came home that day. I was in the garage to greet you and as soon as you turned off the car, you put your head on the steering wheel and started sobbing. I opened the door and you turned to me and said "He's dead Timmy. My Daddy's Dead!" I am almost 13 and have NO idea what to say so of course I am just bawling along with you. We went inside and all cried, talked and laughed a little as I remember it. Like Bill said, please, all of you of the older generation, KEEP SHARING THESE STORIES! Happy or sad, I am ready to soak them up like a sponge. Bill nailed it on the head with the age thing. I just wish I had more time on my hands to bug you all for information. Love you! tj
That day marks the day I stopped eating cheese filled hot dogs. Gramma Kelly was feeding them to us for dinner, then she told me Grandpa had died. I went into mom and dad's bathroom and cried. Cheese filled hot dogs are no longer a part of my diet, nor are they allowed in my home. Grandpa gave me my first bike at my birthday party and the park. someone brought it in and hid it behind me while I was opening presents, everyone was waiting for me to turn around and discover it. I think he thought that was really funny. He also bought me Ms. Pac Man, and told me not to let my brother take the game from me. And he bought me my first clock radio. I remember telling him I wanted that real bad. I have memories of brown cigarettes, white hair and loud laughter. He was taken way to early, he and I could have gotten in to some very heated debates, probably ending with him telling me i was a fool or something. i guess it will have to wait until I see him again. thanks for the stories Ma! Kim
this post and the comments got me quite emo. its so awesome to hear these stories as a grownup. I dont know if i never heard them or i just dont remember. Keep em coming Mom, i could listen for hours. My clock radio broke in the earthquake. It was hard to toss it. Granpa asked me at a young age if i knew what P.O.'d means. I didnt know. He told me and laughed his head off. Haaaaa! i think of him often when im P.O.'d. miss him.
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