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Blogs by Sherry L Gibson
Memories of Bill Drake 2/7/2005 12:37:53 PM
Thoughts about a friend that died of cancer a short time ago
I've hesitated putting my thoughts down about a dear friend that died of esophageal cancer. Mr. Bill was a close friend but to my family he was more than that. He was family to us and had been for years.
Mr. Bill died at the age of 64. I never thought of Mr. Bill in terms of age. He was a second brother to me and to my husband Bill.
Things I like to recall about Mr. Bill:
When he and my husband would introduce themselves to someone they would say, "I'm Bill and this is my other brother Bill." My husband started that many years ago and it stuck. It was funny and it always made me laugh.
Mr. Bill never married. Opportunities came around a few times, but he preferred his independence. He spent his life caring for others and making our family his own. He was comfortable with his life and who he was. He was one of the few people I know who didn't seem to need more in his life to be happy.
He took care of our home when my husband and I had to travel. Bill lived there and took care of things and nothing was ever changed or gone when we returned home. Our home was his home. So seldom you can turn your home and all you own over to someone else and know it will be fine when you return.
Mr. Bill looked after my Mom and Dad for a lot of years. He was like the child that stayed in the home town when all the other kids grew up and moved on with their own families. Mr. Bill stayed behind and looked after the folks for us. He made sure they were taken care of and that Mom always got out of the house to go to yard sales or wherever she wanted to go. When my parents birthdays rolled around and we were far from home it was always Mr. Bill who took them out for dinner. He was always there for them.
I met Mr. bill when I was about 13. So long ago now I don't really remember. By the time I was 15, we became good friends. His mother was a dear friend of mine until her death in 1968. Our friendship with Mr. Bill spanned a lifetime. That's how I count the years.
Mr. Bill was there when I was a kid. He was ten years older than me. He was at my wedding when I married my husband Bill almost 37 years ago. He was at the hospital, bringing my mother along to see my children after they were born. As part of our family, he was always there, always a part of our life.
He was there when my all of my grandparents died. Like any family member Mr. Bill celebrated the birth of the babies with us and mourned the loss of those who passed on.
Mr. Bill helped look after my daughters when hubby and I had to be away from home. When they were teens, he stayed at the house with them to be sure they were safe and taken care of when I wasn't home. To the kids he was Uncle Bill from beginning to end.
Who was Mr. Bill? He was my second brother, my husbands close friend, Uncle Bill to my children, closest friend in the world to my parents. He was family, pure and simple. He was the person God assigned to look over me and my family for the span of a lifetime.
When we heard Mr. Bill had cancer, it was heartbreaking. When we heard he had esophageal cancer it was worse. When he went through surgery, chemo and radiation and the cancer reappeared right away it was devastating. We knew we had to find a way to say good-bye to our life long friend.
My mother sat at the hospital with Mr. Bill day and night during the last week or so of his life. The last few days of his life, hubby and I sat with him along with Mom. It was so hard to be there and impossible not to be.
Toward the end when Mr. Bill was in extreme pain and doped up with morphine he wasn't aware of much going on around him, but he knew we were there. When the pain would hit and was intolerable, he'd call out to his other brother Bill for help. My Bill was right there to do what he could for his old buddy. It was tough. Until that time in our life my husband would rarely visit someone in the hospital and if he did, it was brief and he was out of there!
Right at the end, we all sat around and ask, "Why is he hanging on. Why doesn't he let go." It was so difficult to see this man suffer any more. The doctor kept telling us he could go any minute. I kept telling Mom Mr. Bill's work here on this earth wasn't finished. When his last bit of work was done, our old time friend would slip from us and that would be it.
What can a man accomplish on his way out of this life, lying in a hospital bed, racked in pain and doped up on morphine? I ask this question myself. Then the little miracles started happening around us.
My step father had something on his mind that was troubling him. He'd been troubled over it for 35 years! While Mr. Bill lay there, Dad finally opened up and talked to us. An answer was found and after all these years Dad was no longer burden down with this troubling problem.
Mr. Bill still clung to life. His work still wasn't completed. He was still with us. As we sat for long hours, day and night, Mom and I talked of things long forgotten. She had something on her mind that had been troubling her for the last 20 years or more, concerning her own father. All these years I had the answers Mom needed but she and I never talked about it. That night we did and I was able to help her understand a few things that happened so many years ago. I will always remember the tears in her eyes that night as her questions were answered and she realized the depth of the love her father had for her! Yes, another little miracle took place and an old family problem was cleared up. What a relief for my mother!
Still Mr. Bill lived! My youngest daughter called and ask if she should come down. My husband and I did not want her to see Mr. Bill in the state he was in. It was just too heartbreaking. My youngest daughter and Mr. Bill were very close friends. He'd always been there for her and was at her wedding, just as he'd been at mine. He lived in her home the first year of her marriage and looked after her as her husband worked away from home and she was finishing school.
My youngest daughter made the long trip home to see Mr. Bill. She'd called him every day he was in the hospital and talked to him until he could no longer talk to her. Then she came to see him. It was so hard for us to see her cry when she walked into that hospital room.
Even so, Mr. Bill lived on. That night, hubby and I were going home to rest. Our daughter was there to sit with Mr. Bill and her grandmother. I promised my husband that we'd leave early that night and go home and get some much needed rest.
We were all sitting there in Mr. Bill's room. My husband and I, our youngest daughter, my mom and Dad. Dad left to go home and rest. I suggested a couple of times to my Bill that we could go home anytime. Each time he'd say, "I know but it's not time yet." I agreed with him. It was odd too because Mr. Bill was resting comfortable for the first time in many nights. Yet there was something going on that we could feel but not see or touch. The feeling that we needed to stay was strong and we followed those instincts.
Mom went home for some rest and our daughter went with her. Mom slept a little while and when she woke up she 'knew' she had to get back to the hospital right away. Our daughter tried to talk Grandma out of this but it didn't work. They came back to the hospital. We all sat there, wondering why we had to be there. I knew that Mr. Bill's work wasn't done yet and that there was a reason the four of us felt pressed to be by his side. It was like we could actually feel the fact the end of Mr. Bill's life was close and we were the ones being drawn close to him, to be by his side as he passed over. We all stayed put this time.
I won't go into details but there was a 'rift of distance' between my youngest daughter and her grandmother. Some silly incident from years earlier that caused this 'distance' to develop. This was something that always bothered my mom because she'd always been so close to this girl! It was also something that troubled my youngest daughter because she loved her grandmother so much. They couldn't seem to bridge this little gap that developed and it hurt on both sides. Nothing big but just one of those little things that nags at a person sometimes and you don’t' know how to fix it.
Mr. Bill called out to my husband and my mother. We all got up and went to his bedside. It was apparent that he was going down fast. While we all stood there, each of us touching him and talking to him to reassure him of our presence and saying our final words to him, I saw my mother turn to Clistie and they hugged. I could see the love and caring pouring freely from both of them and it was like old times, the way it use to be. In that instant I knew! I knew what the last of Mr. Bill's duties to my family had been. He'd healed the hurt my step dad carried for years. He healed my mothers' pain concerning her father and now he was healing the gap between grandma and granddaughter. His work on this earth had been accomplished and very peacefully he took his last breath and left this world.
Who was Mr. Bill? Our friend and our family for sure! After a lifetime of his friendship I will always remember Mr. Bill as the one assigned by God to watch over and care for me and my family. I felt no real pain at his passing though it was sad. His suffering had been horrible, and his death was peaceful. As we all stood there, holding hands around Mr. Bill I knew it was as it was meant to be and we simply said good bye and let him go. His work here on earth was complete and he was free at least to turn lose and move on.
