Dad passed away around 9:45 AM this morning. Two of his siblings, one of his sisters-in-law, my mom's pastor Howdie, Mom, Melissa, Hannah, and I were there. He continued to tell us clearly last night he was ready. Once we removed all the medical support today, he passed away about 15-20 minutes later. We are deeply grateful to the Lord that it was quick and pretty peaceful. Howdie prayed with us before they removed the support, and we stood beside him, told him how much we loved him, and told him it was a beautiful morning on the farm, with a blue sky. Mom, Melissa, Hannah, and I all shared our deep love and gratitude for him and the good life he gave us. Hannah bravely spoke on her behalf as well as for her little sister, who is too young to be there and truly understand, to assure him how much she and Nora both love him, that she will make sure to tell Nora all about him, and she will talk about him to her all the time. 

Shortly before he passed, Howdie, said, "In times like these, I like to remember that as dark as this room where we're standing is, there is a glorious light he’s starting to see.” 

Scott, one of his nurses from earlier this week and yesterday, came when it was time and confirmed he was gone. It was comforting that it was him. Howdie prayed for us again, and the hospital chaplain, Brenda (you know by now I like to make sure we name the people who took such good care of us and Dad), asked if Dad liked hymns. Mom loves them, so we suggested "In the Garden." She sang that for us, inviting us to join in the chorus; it was beautiful. We spent a little longer with Dad and asked to talk to Dr. Avery one more time. She had just left the hospital, so one of the nurse practitioners called her on the phone. We told her how grateful we were for her, how much we appreciated the care she gave to Dad, and for her compassion. It was quiet for a moment, so the NP asked if Dr. Avery could hear us. After a pause, she said, "Yes," and it was clear she was crying. "That means the world to me. It was my pleasure. All of you will be in my prayers." I'm not sure I've ever met a more genuinely compassionate doctor in my life. His death (what a strange thing to type, by the way) seemed to break her heart, too. That's remarkable to me; remember that she had never met him before two weeks ago today, when he arrived at the ER. We will never forget her and would absolutely adopt her as a Beck if we could.

We left to meet our cousin Karen to pick up Nora. Being with her and her kids was wonderful; we laughed, we looked forward to a trip we're all taking together this summer, we hugged, we stood in the mid-morning sunshine, and the four girls brought some joy back to our hearts.

It was a relief to free Dad of the interventions keeping him here, and we are so incredibly thankful he was surrounded by those who loved him as he went Home. And what a powerful assurance to know he is there. We got to stand beside him and hold his hand and tell him everything we wanted to say. As we think about all the people who have lost loved ones this last year to COVID who didn't have the same opportunity, what a powerful blessing it was to be able to touch him as he left us. We are so thankful the hospital made him so comfortable with medication in the last 24 hours and let us all be with him. Dear Jesus, what a gift that is on both accounts. And while this has been painful beyond description, God has cared for us in so many ways - remote work schedules, flexible teaching loads, supportive bosses and colleagues, high speed internet from our parents' house in the boonies, family nearby to help with Nora, friends and family who have paid for meals/brought us food, a phenomenal medical team, and so much more - that it reminds us "how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ" (Ephesians 3:18). 

At the same time, our hearts are broken. Our grief is raw, and everywhere. So many of you who have suffered your own painful losses of spouses and parents have reached out to us to offer your love, wisdom, and support, and we are more grateful than we can say. We have been loved so powerfully and persistently by all of you and by our Heavenly Father, and that is a sustaining force that makes this road bearable. Thank you for your faithful love and kindness to us.

We miss him already, and we already look forward to seeing him again, living without pain or limitation in a perfect body, mind, and heart. But until then - 

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:26)

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. (Psalm 46:1-3)

For this God is our God for ever and ever, he will be our guide even to the end. (Psalm 48:14)

Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens. Our God is a God who saves; from the Sovereign Lord comes escape from death. (Psalm 68:19-20)

Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? (1 Corinthians 15:55)

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38-39)

We love you, Dad. Big giant huge much. Forever. 
Mom, Miss, Jen, Hannah, and Nora