My father died yesterday. What a great way to go! It was a very peaceful, though emotional experience for us who were gathered around his hospital bed. He was always so strong, and now we watched him as he grew weaker for every hour. We all just hoped he would stay alive until my sister returned from a journey abroad. He seamed to hear us, as we told him to hang in just a few more hours, and two hours after she arrived, his spirit gradually left him.
Father was ready to go. He has always had a secure faith in Jesus Christ, knowing that his grace is enough to carry him to God. His faith and his joyful attitude influenced all of us, even the nurses in the hospital ward. Two days before he died he received Holy Communion for the last time, administered by the hospital chaplain. Yesterday we recited Bible texts to him as he lay with his eyes closed, but we knew he could hear us. And five minutes before he drew his last breaths we sang a hymn to him.
Mother is alone now, but she has a large family, and in Jesus she has a friend who never fails.