Carolyn’s Story
My father was a gifted man, to me, sometimes bigger than life. He was the father of ten children. He founded a construction company of two hundred employees. He flew airplanes and helicopters and drove eighteen wheelers, built roads and bridges, was an inventor, and held eight patents. But at 85 years of age, he was also mortal. He coped with a debilitating back disorder using a motorized scooter to get around until one morning he could no longer get out of bed. He had lost all control of his legs. We called 911 and after examination at the hospital found that he had a cancerous tumor in his spine. What we didn’t know was that he had only 13 more days to live.
My father said he would cooperate with the doctors and undergo treatment, but he also made it clear that he’d had a good life and was ready to pass on. I thought to myself, “you might be ready to go, but I’m not ready for you to go because you do not know Christ!”
For days, my sisters and I spoke to dad about Jesus, but it was clear that we were not getting through. Then, we decided to try a different tact. Dad had tremendous respect for the family physician, Dr. Eric, who also was a believer. At our request, Dr. Eric came to the hospital, and then he asked to be alone with his friend of many years. He emerged 45 minutes later and announced that my father had accepted Jesus Christ.
“What did you say to him?” we asked in astonishment. He replied, “I said, George, you have been the good father to ten children, you’ve run a big company, and have been the good father to hundreds of employees and now you need a good Father to run you. Choose eternity in hell or eternity in heaven with Him. It’s your choice, but an easy one for such an intelligent man.’” When I came back into my father’s room, he thanked me for sending that “missionary” to him.
It was later that dad returned to the room after receiving a radiation treatment. My sister Kate was across the room, but dad recognized her and greeted her as “Jane.” Jane was also his daughter, but she had died seven months earlier. Was this a sign from the Spirit that Jane was in the wings waiting to greet her dad in heaven? Was this a sign of reassurance and comfort for my father and for us? Whatever it was, he was ready to go and that’s exactly what he did.
As the funeral procession passed over a bridge that dad’s company had built, his construction employees lined the road with hard hats over their hearts. A good man was going home to be with the good Father. A year later, I spoke at the dedication ceremony where that bridge became a memorial bridge named after my father.