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| His Last Days |
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| His Last Days |
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During our Christmas visit in 1977, I had a chance to sit down and have a heart-to-heart talk with Grandpa. He had always been easy to talk to, but this time there was something special about our talk. While we were talking it seemed we were in perfect harmony because I understood the feelings he expressed concerning our relationship over the years. At that time I had an opportunity to express my feelings as well. There was one thing he said I will never forget. “Mark, I've been meaning to tell you something for a long time. I really enjoyed your staying down here with me all those times through the years. You were a lot of help to me. You are more like a son than a grandson. Well, anyway, I enjoyed those years you were down here.” That really meant a lot to me. He has always been more to me than just a grandpa; he was my best friend. While growing up, I always knew how he felt about his work, his family, neighbors, and his God. He was a living example of what a Christian man should be. He lived a simple life. He loved animals. He loved working the land and raising crops. He enjoyed the smell of newly turned soil. He worked hard and long for what meager monetary rewards he received, but if you measured his love of God, family, friends, and his overall attitude toward life, he was a roaring success. As I sat and visited with him that evening, there was something “special” about that time together. He seemed to know it would be his last Christmas, and he had things to say. Mother also had some long talks with him. She had the same feeling of “harmony” with him as they talked. If there is such a thing as a “perfect” death, he had it. It seemed everything worked out perfectly for him during the last two months of his life. He was concerned about not feeling well enough to go on the annual hunting trip to Terlingua with his sons. He looked forward to going because he had the opportunity to visit with all of his sons, grandsons, and others that went. Since he was having some medical problems he was afraid he would have to miss the November trip. But later he began to feel stronger, and his doctor gave him the okay to go to Terlingua. He went, and he had a great time. It was a memorable time for him as well as his sons. On December 15th there was a celebration of his 84th birthday, and all of the family got to be with him. That day had special meaning for him for he knew the end was near. Mother said she had long talks with him about faith and preparation for death. Those talks have warm and meaningful memories for her. Grandpa was having problems swallowing and was having stomach problems. Mom took him to Dr. Witcher in Clifton for tests. He could not hold anything on his stomach. He would eat and soon it would come back up. I phoned him from Andrews and visited with him. It was great to hear his voice. He assured me he was fine, and they were going to just do a few tests. After a few days of tests, Dr. Witcher let him go home. Over a period of days he became very weak. He could not do the things he was doing just a few weeks earlier. The test results were received a couple of days later, but they never proved why he was not able to eat or keep it down. The tests eventually verified he was having irregular heartbeats and a few other related problems. As he grew weaker each day, Mother took him back to the doctor instead of waiting for his scheduled appointment several days later. The morning was cold, but the day was bright sunshine and clear skies. Daddy moved the car from the carport to the south side of the house so the sun would warm it up before they left for Clifton. Grandpa was feeling pretty good and was in good spirits as they left for Clifton. As usual he was so appreciative of Mother for taking him to the doctor. Mom said he had his usual keen sense of humor and a “just great to be alive” attitude. He really enjoyed the drive to Clifton as everything was so beautiful in the bright sun. They talked and reminisced along the way. After he got to the hospital, he told Mom how he wished they could have just “kept on driving.” I called him from my home in Andrews to check on him. He said, “I can't believe I'm laying here and talking to you all the way out there in Andrews.” It was so good to hear his voice and that always warm and friendly laugh he had. He seemed in good spirits, but he sounded so weak. In our conversation he said, “My belt is really slipping.” That immediately reminded me of earlier times when we used to work during the summers when I was growing up. That familiar saying was used toward the end of a long, hot, and tiring workday. I asked if he was watching “Let's Make A Deal” on TV while in the hospital. He said he had lost interest in TV, and he just wanted to close his eyes and rest. He told me he had overheard someone say he was having heart problems. “I guess I wasn't supposed to know that, but I heard it anyway.” I told him I'd call again tomorrow to check on him. Mom called me on Friday, January 20th, to tell me he wasn't doing well. I started making plans to leave for Clifton the coming Tuesday. I had a very strange feeling about it all. Jan said I should go now. I decided to leave early Sunday morning, which I did. There was ice, snow, and foggy conditions along the way. I arrived at Clifton hospital at 12:30 P.M. I found him resting comfortably and visiting with Gene, Sudi, Bob, Diana, and the kids. He had just had a hypo a few minutes before I arrived. Wade had spent the night with him Saturday night and had just left to go out to the farm. Joel and Floy stopped by to see him. Carroll and Grandma got there at 1:30 to stay the afternoon with him. I went out to the farm to rest awhile. Wade had just left to go back to New Braunfels. At 4:00 P.M., I returned to the hospital and found Milburn and Bettye Sue with Carroll and Grandma. When I came in, Grandpa was wide awake and telling a yarn. I interrupted his story to greet him and then moved to the foot of his bed. I grabbed his big toe and tickled his foot. He said, “You just be quiet and behave yourself while I finish my story.” I told him I was just getting even with him for all the times he had tickled me. He continued telling his story. The story had something to do with Grandma holding on to Queen, a huge workhorse he used to have. He said he often thought about how silly it was for Grandma to hold that horse while he harnessed the other one. He said Queen could have slung Sadie all over the place if she had the mind to do so. It looked ridiculous to see such a small woman “holding” such a big horse. He seemed to really enjoy remembering that incident. Around 5:00, Grandma said she should go back out to the farm and get some rest. Grandma kissed him on the forehead and left for home with Carroll. Grandma was unaware of the fact that would be the last time she would see her beloved husband alive. Milburn and Bettye Sue left for home. Grandpa and I visited for awhile and then Bob, Diana, and the kids came by to see him on their way home. Grandpa tickled and teased with Brad. He checked to see if he had been “stealing biscuits.” He did that by wiggling the kneecap. (If you squirmed or giggled it meant you've been stealing biscuits.) I grabbed him by his knees and kidded him about how “bony” his knees were. He really laughed about that and then said, “They might be bony, but they have really been good ones.” Before Bob and Diana left, he did his “this little piggy went to market” (in Norwegian) on Whitney's toes. His alertness and sense of humor was especially good at that time. We all had a good laugh, and then they left for Temple. He asked me where Sadie was. I said she had been with him all day and that she was tired and had gone home. He then said, “That's right,” indicating to me he had forgotten, but then remembered. I asked him how in the world he got a gal like Grandma. He said, “I don't know, but she is really something.” He also said something like this. “You know, Mark, I've never been one to show my emotions like some people, but I know they (the family) know how much I love them. I really do love my family. God's really been good to me all these years.” He asked me if I was going to spend the night with him. I told him, “Yes.” He said that I was not to jump every time he moved during the night. He said Wade spent the previous night with him and wore himself out getting up and checking on him all night long. About 6:00 P.M., he told me he was going home tomorrow. He said he wanted to get out of bed. I had to convince him all the plumbing (IV, oxygen, and catheter) would not allow him to get up. We talked about walking around the block (the five acre patch) in only our underwear and shoes on nights we had difficulty sleeping. (We slept outdoors during the summer.) We talked about several things that took us both back to days when life was simpler. He really began to get restless. He would take off his oxygen mask, put it back on, and then take it off again. He said he could breathe about as well without it as with it. His breathing began to get very deep. I raised and lowered his bed as he requested several times trying to make him comfortable. Nothing helped. For short periods of time he'd start to panic as he wrestled with his oxygen mask trying to breathe. He soon took it off again. The nurse said he could leave it off if he wanted to. She said he could do what ever he wanted to do to get comfortable, but to put it on if he had trouble breathing. He took a nap until about 8:00 P.M. He soon awoke as he was having trouble breathing once again. I put the mask back on and called the nurse. He appeared uneasy. I asked if he could have a shot to make him rest. A shot was ordered and soon given. I massaged his back for about twenty minutes until he fell into a deep sleep. Just before he went to sleep, he began talking. It was as if he was replaying the past: “I'm going to get some oats and then go to the post office. There are three ways a horse can lose a shoe. The nail can break, or the nail head can wear away, or...” He muttered several other things I didn't fully understand. He said something about a big spittoon. Some of the things he said I didn't understand, as they seemed to be spoken in Norwegian. Grandpa rested well for most of the night. His breathing was smooth, regular, and deep. Often I could not hear him breathe, so I would check on him and find him resting quietly. At 5:30 A.M. Monday, the nurse came in, turned on the lights, checked his vital signs, and started on her morning chores in the room. After she left, I spent most of the time raising or lowering the bed trying to make him comfortable. I rubbed his back. I asked him if my rubbing his back felt good. He answered yes by moving his head up and down. He had a different look about him this morning, especially his eyes. He had not said a word thus far this morning. He was awake, but he responded to my questions with gestures. At 6:15, I asked him if he needed a shot. He replied no by shaking his head. I raised the bed to a sitting position. That seemed to make him comfortable as he sat straight back, hands at his side. A few minutes later he broke his silence as he called out very boldly, “O. C. Knudson! Ole Conrad Knudson!” He called once again, “Old Conrad Knudson!” I asked if he needed something. He didn't reply. He muttered a few other things I could not understand. These short phrases I'm convinced were spoken in Norwegian. (In looking back, I feel Grandpa was shouting his name to St. Peter as if answering roll preparing to enter his heavenly home.) I placed pillows behind his back and rubbed his shoulders and back. He said, “That feels better.” With those words he breathed heavily two or three times, and at 6:28 A.M., he left this world. I called for the nurse. She read his vital signs...there was a faint, irregular pulse momentarily...and then there was none. The nurse removed his mask and all tubes. He appeared to be totally at peace. Grandpa had a swift and painless death. I thank God for allowing me to learn from him even up to the last day of his life. He taught me so much all my life. I learned from him as a young boy, and today I saw him demonstrate his Christian faith and welcome the end of his life on this earth. It was truly a blessing to me to see how eager he was to go and how prepared he was to be committed into the hands of God.
Ole Conrad Knudson JMW/January 30, 1978 |
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