July –-> Friday, Sept 4,
09 – Leaving Fargo…
Chuck & I left Fargo a few days ago for the second time
this summer. My 82 year-old
father, an adventurer, just left as well - only he went on THE ultimate journey
– the one we all face!
I am not fond of road trips…time in the car feels a bit like
what I imagine time in prison might feel like…well, maybe for the first hour or
so, then…prison might be enough to warrant putting me in a straight jacket with
heavy sedation! And although being
seat-belted in & not being able to run around, road trips do have a few
advantages…at least over flying -- I can lay my seat back more than 2 inches,
sing loudly to whatever music is on my iPod (Chuck is extremely tolerant), eat
fresh veggies/fruit out of the cooler, bring ‘sharps’ on board AND I can get
out…most any time…so I take advantage - frequently!
We drove the approximately 3000 miles to Fargo & back in
July & now just returned from the 2nd trip a few days ago. Well…I flew to Fargo this time, but
Chuck & Kirst drove!
Yes…Nepal, India, Thailand have been exotic, adventurous & exciting,
BUT…my father was in Fargo & you couldn’t beat that! Since he had been experiencing a
decline in health, we wanted to bring him one of his favorites – Huckleberry
pie from Mt. Hood!
I have a deep connection & obvious Midwest history with
memories of growing up in Moorhead, Minnesota that included quiet, tree-lined
streets, brilliant sunshine on freezing-cold days, & breaking thru the ice
with my rubber boots while crossing the backyard of a pastors house on my way
to grade school. But I also
remember large family gatherings with lots of buttery, sugary, Scandinavian
desserts like warm lefse just off the grill! He has the same sweet cravings, so it was our turn to treat
him!
Fargo, only separate from Moorhead, by the ever-changing
north flowing Red River, was where I attended nurses training & after a
cultural shock ‘camp’ nursing experience in the Pocono Mountains, I worked in
Mpls/St. Paul. So many Midwest
memories - things I still enjoy & incorporate into our lives in the Pacific
NW – family get-togethers, tuna casseroles, rhubarb pie, church/choir-organ
music on Sundays & of course the traditional Norwegian lutefisk meal at
Christmas. With each visit I
always hope to once again capture “the lake” experience with all it’s great
smells & sounds – remembering how my Dad used to wind those squishy worms
around my hook, how we used to hang ‘pop’ bottles over the side of the boat to
keep them cold, how we snacked on potato salad & crunchy fried chicken
while trying to catch a few walleye.
I also loved the feel of crispy snow & I think we shared a love of
loud, booming thunder & lightning storms! God’s reminder about who’s really in charge! And now my Dad is back where the
thunder is made!
Although there were unfortunately no exciting rainstorms, we
enjoyed family time over 4th of July weekend playing dominoes with
Pops & Marge & witnessing Pops thoroughly enjoying seafood - lobster,
crab, scallops plus desserts of all sorts! At his request, we also helped him get a haircut & new
glasses – had fun having him try on different frames. He wanted to stick with his big glasses, but…we were a
little pushy in getting an updated look.
We also enjoyed reconnecting with family members we unfortunately rarely
get to see. One of our great joys
of our two visits was becoming closer with the families of Marge’s daughters,
Valerie, Mandi, & Dawn.
My father, ‘Pops’ as we have called him since our daughters
were young, was Harold W. Iverson, who turned 82 last Sunday, August 30th. He was the last living parent either
one of us had – our Scandinavian patriarch - from a Swedish-born mother &
Norwegian father. Whatever the
reason (immigrant parents?) Pops enjoyed the adventure of travel, had an impeccable work
ethic, loved family and demonstrated
it by whole-heartedly supporting our efforts, endeavors & challenges. His strength of will continued, even
while he steadily lost physical strength.
He continued to listen, observe, & support…all with humor!
I believe I inherited Pop’s adventurous-curious-travel
gene...and so did our daughters.
He left home at 17 (1944) to join the U. S. Merchant Marines, a civilian
auxiliary of the U.S. Navy, but a uniformed service in time of war when mariners
are considered military personnel.
He was an engineer who maintained machinery, mostly below the deck,
while their ship transported supplies to various countries during WWII. He loved the sea & talked about
sitting on deck whenever he could while going between Italy, France, Germany,
Panama Canal, the Philippines’& I forget... Even now, as he suffered the effects of asbestosis &
years of smoking, often struggling to breathe, he enjoyed talking about his adventures. But he also took a great deal of
interest in asking perceptive questions about our lives. Our daughters, Kirsten & Kelsey
kept him close by sharing their stories & adventures through pictures,
phone calls through Skype (so they could see each other), sending exotic foods,
small & sometimes strange gifts, music & with visits.
Last week, Kirsten enjoyed sitting in Pops’ room, listening
for his bell, sharing stories & waiting for Pop’s next joke, giving
massages, & cooking an Indian meal for his review. She spent her last night in his room sleeping
next to his hospital bed, while a noisy oxygen tank ran continuously. Pops liked to keep his bell handy, so
at 3:55AM, he rang it so Kirst wouldn’t miss her plane - he had been watching
the clock! When asked if he had
any words of advice before she left for India, he smiled & said, “Turn on
the air conditioner.” He loved
having her visit! But this was one
of the most difficult good-byes Kirst (or anyone) makes in a lifetime!
He seemed to have been buoyed up by her presence --- as we
were! But over the last several days of our visit, he seemed to be
steadily decreasing in strength & abilities. He became more & more congested, coughing with difficulty,
& sometimes he was confused – worrying about projects that needed to be
completed or concerns about people’s safety. Even in these last days, he was not to be ignored – tapping me
on the arm if I got lost in conversation - when he wanted more food or
drink. Being a guy who loved to
figure out how things worked, he latched onto his electric bed control - moving
his bed…up/down...& around.
Even as he was particularly challenged to let go of his independence and
privacy, he loved the attention of the hospice home caregivers & family! Especially when they tuned in to his
tastes, as Kelsey did with picking out music she thought he might like. When listening to the CD that Kelsey made
for him, he commented many times, “It brings tears to my eyes.” Songs like, “You Raise Me Up,” &
“Raise Your Voices” by Secret Garden were two of his favorites. He also loved organ, choir (sang
in the church choir & in a Barbershop Men’s Chorus), tenors,
& all music that was BIG --- it was a BIG part of his life!
Growing up on a farm, Pops worked tirelessly. After years of farm chores, the
Merchant Marines, delivering bulk newspapers, & being a fast-order
fry-cook, he joined Gibb & Son’s Plumbing where he became a Master plumber
& worked for over 40 years.
Besides being a full-time plumber, he built several houses, including
the one I moved into when I was 6 years old. As one might expect, given his unique set of skills, he was
exceptional at figuring out how to fix or make something work – and he
subscribed to the motto “measure twice, cut it once.” Whenever he came to visit, he ended up fixing or building
something to improve our lives and there wasn’t a piece of plywood or 2 x 4
wasted!
We were living in our Portland 1940’s ‘bungalow’ 2-story
house, when he brought his family & his hand-made toolbox…by train, to
build us a second bathroom.
Kirsten, age 1½ imitated his handyman style & donned a tool belt
with her own (plastic) hammer so she could help too! A very sturdy picnic table he made at that home is still
with us today – 3 houses later! His
building skills later turned to churches & cathedrals - the kind you make with
a scroll saw – many over 3 ft tall – and intricately put together. He also could tell you exactly how many
cuts it took to make them! In
addition, his creativity extended to clocks, cradles, bowls, butterflies, &
letter holders. He turned his ideas
into reality in ways that seemed like magic!
Besides his love of work, he LOVED family & showed us
in so many ways – especially by his never-ending support - even when he may not
have agreed with my/our strange ideas.
As I set off for Europe when I was 22, with a fairly new friend, he came
to see me off – there were no questions, just support! When I announced I was getting
married…in California, he was there.
When I said, Kirst & I are going to Ecuador to see Kelsey, he asked,
“Can I come along?” He was
fearless when it came to travel, especially combined with family. Although he had a fibrillating heart
& weakened lungs, family, especially grandchildren, were more important to
him than worrying about his health, even at a 10,000 feet elevation where the
air is a bit thin. Without
hesitation, he wanted to go on our white-water rafting trip. While we couldn’t accommodate him in a
raft, he traveled with us on the bus thru the mountains to the beginning
point. Although many bus-hours
& miles away from any medical services, with no one that spoke English, he
had fun waiting for us by the river while buying lunch for the 2 Spanish
speaking bus drivers! He
especially enjoyed learning how to bargain in the open-air markets & was a
good sport when a very sneaky old woman stole his wallet!
He has supported, in multiple ways, two families that
include 3 children from his first marriage to my mother Arline & 4 children
that Marge brought to their second marriage, who Harold also considered his
own. With thirteen grandchildren (when he was in good health), he would go to basketball games, graduations,
& weddings and later even tho’ he didn’t feel well, still took an
interest in what was happening with family, local & international news,
& the weather – especially if he knew loved ones were there. Marge has provided a loving home
where he has now been receiving attentive round-the-clock care. This has not only allowed my father to
stay in an environment that was familiar, comfortable, & with the food he loves,
but it truly was a gift that family has benefitted from by being able to
participate in his care – any time, day or night. Marge’s dedication to caring for him at home, has allowed us
to listen for his bell, so we could dash in to find out what he needed – we
felt like we were doing something good, even if it was just little stuff! We could get him a glass of water, prepare
& help him eat his favorite foods like seafood & desserts, rearrange
the pillows, open the blinds, hold his hand, read to him, massage his feet, say
good morning & kiss him goodnight - just a few ways we could show him that
we loved him. There were a hundred
little things that we could do for him, things we couldn’t necessarily do if he’d
been in a nursing home. It was
truly a “sacred time” as a visiting pastor called it and a sacred place to be.
One of the great victories of his life was defeating his
addiction to alcohol. For almost
15 years he has been a recovering alcoholic enjoying the community &
camaraderie of others in AA.
Indeed, several of his clock projects were to commemorate friends on
their 12th year of being clean with a medallion for each hour on the
clock.
Pops is a guy whose toolbox not only included a wrench &
hammer but strength of character.
As he laid quietly with oxygen running listening to his favorite ‘larger
than life’ music, he would take in the scene around him – watching, observing,
& feeling the moment. He
didn’t have the energy to fix or build things anymore, but he was making jokes
until last Sunday --- his 82nd birthday. Chuck read him the card we gave him with about 20 superlatives,
like smartest, bravest, cleverest, etc & he said in a voice you almost
couldn’t hear - - - “I knew that!”
My Dad encouraged family stability & togetherness. In July, when asking him what he
thought about a possible Peace Corp assignment, he advised…oh so deliberately
& carefully…“Until Kirst & Kels have a more permanent place to call
home, it’s important to have a place where they can find the garbage bag.” Unusual phrasing, but as my father, he
was concerned that I be a good parent --- that his grandchildren feel safe
& we all have the security to do the things we need or want to do. As a grandparent, he has been integral
in our daughter’s lives. There is
nothing as special as a grandparent’s unconditional love, attention &
watchfulness.
I have noticed that each generation has different tools in
their toolbox. My father’s wrench,
imbedded into a piece of round cement placed in our garden’s path - that we
made together - is a sweet reminder of all the gifts our family has received
from him! However, the most
important tools he has given will be far more enduring than our garden stone
with his wrench. On one morning,
in and out of confusing dreams where he needed to fix things, he was humoring
us with hiding his bell under the covers so we couldn’t take it away. When I brought in his favorite flowers,
also a favorite of his mother - red gladiolas, he smiled & said,
“Wow!” He continued enjoying simple things and also
continued to give - the ultimate
gift of helping us all to ‘BE’ in each & every moment, with each struggling
breath!
Life seems too short, even if you’ve lived 82 years. As the movie, “The Time Traveler’s Wife” makes so clear, if you don’t take full
advantage of enjoying each moment, that ‘moment,’ person, event, beautiful
sight, opportunity…is gone in a heartbeat! His generous heart stopped beating today…but his memory
lives on in all of us, friends & family, who had the pleasure & honor
of BEING in his presence.
Typically I am not fond of road trips, but thanks for being
my Dad, my friend, and for our road-trip together!
