Standing on the Shoulders of Giants

"If I have seen farther it is by standing on the shoulders of giants"--Isaac Newton.

David N. Owens (7/22/1950-6/11/2013)

I want to write this post now, before my experiences surrounding my father's death fade any more from my mind. I was blessed to be home when my father passed, in fact, all of us siblings were. My dad had taken a turn for the worse and my mom flew us all home for the weekend to say goodbye to him. At the time, we didn't realize that the 4 days we had intended to stay would turn into 8 and that we would be there for his funeral. Sometimes Heavenly Father works things out for the best, and this was one of those cases.

The last 8 months of my father's life were very difficult for him, my mother, and my nurse-sister who was constantly having to stage medical interventions. After a 7-year battle with prostate cancer, the end came slowly and quickly, all at the same time. I say slowly, because we all watched helplessly as my dad fought endlessly increasing pain, broken hips, cancerous bone lesions, skull lesions, and infections. Nothing the doctors tried seemed to make him any better at all. Nothing eased his pain and suffering for more than a few weeks. From the time I was up there in April until right before his death he went from chatting about engineering problems with my brother and being able to hold his baby granddaughter to not being able to lift his arms or even say very many words. He didn't even answer the phone for several weeks before his death. It was painful to watch his body grow weak; to watch him become a shadow of the person he once was.

The day he died, my older brother Jonathan and I were headed back up to the airport to leave to return to Atlanta. We were almost there when we got a phone call from my mom saying that my dad had become unresponsive. Upon arrival at the airport and after some consideration we cancelled our flights and returned to the NYS Veterans' Home where my dad had been moved only 5 days before. By the time we got there, he had already passed. My sister Samantha and my brother Matthew had arrived there just a few minutes before us. My brother Jacob, my mom, and a family friend had been there when my dad took his final breath and Jacob had closed my dad's eyes. Someone from the Veterans' Home had brought in a music player hooked up to the LDS Hymns of Worship channel on Pandora. For three hours we sat with my my dad's body, listening to the beautiful calming music of our faith. I held my dad's hand, and slipped my fingers between his arm and the side of his body to feel the warmth that lingered there. I combed his hair with my fingers and told him that I loved him. It was a beautiful experience, and nothing like what I had imagined it would be. I expected to feel immense grief and sadness, but what I felt instead was relief. I later realized that this was because I had already been grieving for months--feeling sorrow for his pain and dreading his death. I almost had nothing left to mourn. I was grateful that, despite the hole that will forever exist in my heart, he was no longer suffering. I wouldn't wish him back here for one more day if he had to suffer like that. 

The same family friend that was present when my dad passed gave a beautiful eulogy at the funeral. My dad was such a great man. He was one of the kindest most patient men you would ever meet. I remember walking with him one day down a road where there was a big empty plot of land, and he shared with me how he wished he could buy that piece of land and build a home for all the women and children of the world that had no one to take care of them. That was just how my dad was. He would stop to help anyone on the side of the road whose car was broken down. His favorite assignment in church was to serve in the nursery because he loved all little children with such a tenderness that I have never seen equaled in another individual. He chose his words very carefully, and showered his children with affection. He was a great father and I wish all children could have had a father like mine. At the end of the eulogy, my father's friend shared that after considering my dad's life, he was no longer personally concerned with living a "long" life, but rather he wanted to live a "good" life. I appreciated that sentiment so much as I think my dad really tried to be the best person he could be and do as much good as possible.

As I consider my father's legacy, I too want to live a "good" life. I want to be good, kind, and patient because that is what my father, through his example, taught me to be. I want to help others and love children with a compassion second only to Jesus Christ. Thinking about all I have learned from my dad, I am reminded of Isaac Newton's famous quote about being able to see further by virtue of "standing on the shoulders of giants". To me, my dad was one of these "giants" and I can only hope that one day I can be good enough to stand on his shoulders.

I love you, dad.

Till we meet again ...