It’s Hard to Say Goodbye

It is indeed hard to say goodbye when someone dies. It is especially hard to say goodbye to one’s father, even though he is aged and has not been doing well for the last two years. Judy’s father, Lester A. Thrasher, and Episcopal Priest, died in his sleep last Sunday. He was 99 years and 10 months old. For the last two years he had been going down hill. As he put it, “I’m in God’s waiting room.” He was ready to die and transit to a new life. His last words to us, a blessing, were “Go and have fun.” We, Judy and I, are happy that he finally made it, but we will sadly miss his presence in the world we know. Although he was mostly deaf, he had a welcome and sweet smile for everyone he saw. He ministered to the other patients and the staff daily. At 10 a.m. you would find him going around seeing everyone in his wheel chair. He would take their hands, with a great smile, and ask them how they were doing. The staff at St. James House, Baytown, Texas, looked forward to seeing him make his rounds. The last few weeks he would tell the nurse who checked him at night that he would not be there in the morning. Sunday it was true — he had gone. Sunday morning, after we had discovered he had died, we turned on the radio as we sadly fixed breakfast. The first thing we heard was a cello solo — Lester was an avid Cello player. This was followed by a marimba solo — Judy is a percussionist and loved to play the marimba. Believe it or not the next thing we heard was a harpsichord and flute piece and Jane, deceased, played these instruments. Judy and I started laughing. Lester was sending us a message.