Why didn't God take me?

The story was bittersweet. My administrative assistant’s 89-year-old father was experiencing health ups-and-downs for several months. A scary spell landed him in hospice for a short time until he was told he wasn’t terminal enough to qualify for services.

So back he went to the original family home where he celebrated life daily with his 84-year-old wife. Then it was more ups-and-downs. Thankfully the four married children and their families all lived close enough to stop in regularly, and the three daughters in particular took on nursing roles.

After one more health low ending in a hospital ICU experience, Dad was again back home. He was alert, he recognized everyone, and he carried on memorable conversations. However, he wasn’t interested in eating and stopped wearing his glasses and hearing aids.

Deciding that the end must be near, Dad had the parish priest come to hear his confession and to give him the last rites. His wife, their four children, their spouses and grandchildren, including one grandson who made it home from an out-of-town college, all gathered around the bed. Dad kissed each person goodbye, declared that he was square with the Catholic church, and leaned back in his bed.

But nothing happened.

The clock ticked by. All of three minutes elapsed. Still nothing happened.

“Why didn’t God take me?” Dad asked. “I’m all ready to go. Yet here I still sit.”

Carol, my administrative assistant, continued to relate the story and how everyone present around the bedside explained to him that this dying business happens in God’s time, not in our time.

Carol and I only allowed ourselves furtive smiles at this account, knowing that it would be too easy to let ourselves enjoy a good laugh. Can’t you picture her dad sitting there, all ready to go off to heaven? No, this wasn’t the time for a big chuckle.

Carol’s dad made it through one more weekend and then – that was it. His readiness was required to extend a few more days. Carol and I never once said the it-was-a-blessing-that-he-went-when-he-did line. We didn’t need to say that. Her dad was a blessing throughout his entire life, and heaven blessed everyone gathered around him at the end.

Here we still sit. What a great lesson.

[Sr. Nancy Linenkugel is a Sylvania Franciscan sister and chair of the department of Health Services Administration at Xavier University, Cincinnati, Ohio.]