Go Rest High, On That Mountain…

 

Son your work, on earth is done. Go to Heaven a shoutin, love for the Father, and Son. 

These are lyrics to a song by Vince Gill. Anyone who has lost someone close, and has heard this song, no doubt put a few tears on the floor.

On March 22, 1934, Lloyd and Mary McIntosh welcomed into this world a son, Douglas.  Doug proudly served his country in the United States Air Force as an Ordinance technician during the Korean War. He was not drafted, he volunteered. He was always proud of his service to his country. He should be, he served his country well at a time America needed him.

On December 7, 1956, Doug married Beverly Gibb, and together raised 4 children. I am fortunate, and blessed, to be one of them. Doug was a hard working man, marking out his place plying his trade in the auto repair business, particularly the radiator and air conditioning business. When I was 10, Dad moved the family to a small farming community in Michigans Thumb, and started his own shop. He busted his tail, often working  late into the night, to get his customers cars, trucks, and farm equipment back on the road. I remember many times he would load tools into the truck to make an onsite repair at a farm, so the farmer could get back to getting his crops off.

When a fire wiped out his business, and landed him hospitalized with serious burn injuries, it could not keep him down. He rebuilt, and reopened his shop. He ran it until 1982, when he decided he could no longer keep the pace.

I remember coming home from school, thinking I was gonna sneak out for a little rabbit hunting. Dad, having a few chores for me, had a trick up his sleeve. I reached for my .22 rifle, and damn if the bolt was missing! Yeah, Dad was one step ahead of me. He took it out, and said I’d get it back when my chores were done. If he wasn’t hiding the bolt to the .22 he was hiding my shell bag for the 20 gauge I  used pheasant hunting. Now Dad had never been much for small game hunting, and had given up deer hunting when i reached the age. But always, he would encourage me in my adventures afield, and a smile would spread across his face when I brought home game, happy in my success. Then for him, it was back to work. But he often had some miserable chore for me, be it straightening cooling fins on a ‘dozer radiator, or chipping ice from the walkway in front of the shop, so his customers wouldn’t slip and fall. When those were done, to his satisfaction, then I could go hunting.

Dad always had a saying, ” If you can’t do the job the right way, then its  not worth  doing at all”. If I heard that once, I heard it a thousand times. He would not tolerate shoddy work. Especially from me. He taught me to take pride in my work, and to expect more of myself than anyone else would. Then, he told me, you’ll have a satisfied customer.

Dad would occasionally sneak away to do a little salmon fishing, but for the most part, I grew up watching my Dad bust his ass every day to keep the bills paid, a roof over our head, and food on our table.

About 5 years ago, Dad was diagnosed with throat cancer. It was through a freak sequence of events that it was discovered. He had fallen in the kitchen and broke his leg. While in the hospital with a broken femur, he developed a GI bleed from a bleeding ulcer. They went in to cauterize it , and the doctors noticed a tumor on his throat. Chemo and radiation followed, and a fight began. They got it at first, and in a few months, it was back. They took out his larynx, and Dads voice was lost. eventually a prosthetic device gave him a rough ability to talk. Over the next 4 yrs there were reoccurences, more surgery, and a lot of fight.

Dad is the toughest man I have ever met. I do not mean “lift a lot of weight” tough. He’s TOUGH mentally, and emotionally. He’s stared death in the face, and firmly said- Not today. its not time. He trusted his doctors unconditionally. He did what they said. Along with that, he had hundreds of people praying for him . Many had never met him, but knew his kids through one venue or another. Networks of friends, and family, keeping him in their prayers. 

Now I don’t care what someones particular religion is, but I know one thing, prayers by that many do not go unnoticed by God. Whether you believe , or choose not to, thats up to you. But faith and prayer are the two most powerful things I can think of. Those prayers,intended for the toughest man I know, gave us almost 5 more years with Dad. It gave us time to grow stronger as a family. To express our love every day, and appreciate each other. Through all of Dads struggles, Mom has been at his side. Every day. every hour. Every minute. She busted her ass to give him the best care he could get at home. She got plenty of help from my sister, who lives very close by. But all of us pitched in when needed. dad was surrounded by his family. He had busted his butt for years taking care of us. Now it was our turn.

Over my life I learned a lot from Dad. I learned first and foremost to be my own man. To stand up for what I believed, and be willing to fight for it when necessary. Dad was never afraid to speak his mind, and while that may have ruffled some feathers from time to time, he rarely left you wondering about what he thought about any given topic. I guess I got a double scoop of that from him .

Throughout his struggle with his health problems, he never once complained. Not one time. And there was a lot of pain, and a lot of emotions. He treated his caregivers well. And he had a lot of them. He also never lost his sense of hunor,

God called Dad home on Sunday night, 11-24-08.  Dad was cancer free at the time of his passing. But the battle scars weren’t hard to see. He breathed through a hole in his neck. It was alot of work to maintain that. God decided he had had enough. His Work, On Earth Was Done. Dad passed ever so peacefully as he slept, and now rests, High on the  Mountain. 

I have been on an emotional roller coaster for the past 2 days. But as  I type this, tears cloud the screen.  Of one thing, I am certain. I can feel Dads love around me, like he’s giving my heart a hug. Telling me he’s ok.

Dad, we will take care of Mom, I promise you that. I will never forget the lessons you taught me, and will do my best to pass them along to your grandsons.  I know you will be with us in our daily travels, looking over my shoulder, guiding me along the way. Or kicking me in the ass, what ever be the case.

Today I said goodbye ( for now) to Dad. I love him, and will miss seeing him. God will welcome his sense  of humor. Even angels need a good laugh.

 

 

MISS ME – BUT LET ME GO

When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set for me.
I want no rites in a gloom-filled room.
Why cry for a soul set free?

Miss me a little but not too long,
And not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that we once shared.
Miss me, but let me go.

For this is a journey we all must take.
And each must go alone.
It’s all a part of the Master’s Plan,
A step on the road to home.

When you are lonely and sick of heart
Go to the friends we know.
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds.
Miss me – but let me go.

- Helen Steiner Rice -

 

I am not there

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on the snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn’s rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die….

-Mary Elizabeth Frye-

 

In loving memory of my Dad,

Douglas O. McIntosh

1934-2008

I miss you .