Sybil Taylor
credit: Sybil Taylor

When we arrived, he had a beautiful service. We all viewed him, kissed him, then said a few words to him. He looked so good in his brown suit and brown tie that my mother had picked out for him. And, he was smelling so nice with a light scent cologne. Everyone viewed him quietly as they walked passed the casket and talked. Everyone paid their last respects to him. He had beautiful flowers that stood out to the fullest. The minister sang lovely songs for him and gave a good service in his honor. We all got up to do our final goodbye and last look at him. My mother took it hard. The minister sang “Always” by Stevie Wonder. We all cried as they folded up the white cloth that covered his face. They closed the casket and p.ut his flag in honor of him having served in the Army on it. Our last cry and goodbyes forever and ever untill one day we will all be with him. He has gone first, but we will all join him one day in his mansion. Smiling and sharing our cry and love. We will reunite in glory. We were all comforted by family who gave my mother sympathy cards, love, and support. My mother had a small repast with me, my sister, my brother, and my sister in law. We had a little food, music, and something to drink. We got a ride home from the cemetery.

Dad, you will be forever missed. The sun will shine and the moon will glow. I will be that shining star in the sky, twinkling for you always, and smiling, and shining, and sparkling always. The angel who glows day and night forever.

Dad was very sick. I came each day to give him therapy. He would pay me $20 a day for helping him. My mother would wash him up, change his colonoscopy bag, groom him, feed him, and give him plenty of water. My sister helped mom out by taking turns. They would both cook breakfast for him, make his bed up, change his pads and diapers, talk to him, and let him rest. He was on the morphine machine for awhile, then he started doing so good that they took him off. His doctor said that he was doing excellent. He was exercising every day and getting out of bed, but he was still weak. He was able to talk. He sent us to McDonald’s to get lunch. He would eat with us. He had a hospital bed, T.V. Radio, and doctor and family visits. He was well loved and cared for. Each day he got better, but then he started getting weaker and weaker. He was taking morphine tablets or drops in his mouth for his pain. His pain was so bad he couldn’t take it anymore. It would hurt him to urinate and pass bowels. He was almost in tears. He would make faces, but he would not give up the fight. The cancer got worse. He couldn’t speak or think too good. He lost so much weight till his face had sunken in. He looked like a skeleton. I pulled the cover he had over him. He was so cold.