O Come, All Ye Faithful

It was a cold March morning, I hadn't slept much in over a week when we arrived at the hospital where my dad lay, in a coma like state, much as he had been for the past two days. It was a Sunday, so the hospital halls were quiet. I went in, my mom was with me and we were taking turns partaking of the weekly Sunday brunch that was served in the visitor's lounge. After spending five weeks in this hospital, we knew the drill. It was, however, the first Sunday that my father was unable to join us - he LOVED anything free, especially if it was food!

As I sat in the room and waited, I decided to walk over to my father, who was in a deep sleep, and say hello to let him know that we had arrived. Knowing his love of Christmas (possibly kindled by his name, Rudolph), I decided to break out in hymn. It was an especially good time to do this as we were alone. I didn't want to chase anyone out of the room with my less than operatic voice! I chose one of his favorites, O Come, All Ye Faithful. As I started the song, my father seemed to wake out of his sleep and started making all these noises, raising his arms and even tried to sit up, something he had not been able to do for days. I just smiled and kept singing, although by that time I was wishing my mom had been around to see that.

I don't know if my father thought he was in heaven (doubtful, with my less than angelic voice in the background) or if he was trying to join in. I instantly, though, thought long and hard about the lyrics to this timeless Christmas carol.

O Come, all ye faithful
Joyful and triumphant
O Come, ye, O Come ye
to Bethlehem.

Come, and behold Him,
born the King of Angels,

O Come, let us adore Him,
O Come, let us adore Him,
O Come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.

I thought it might be the perfect song to welcome a child of God into heaven, and maybe my dad was hearing off in the distance just that very song. I don't really know. It just sounded so beautiful to me that day, with the groans of my father in the background.

That night, I had a dream about my dad. It was extremely brief, it was him, sitting at the end of his hospital bed in his hospital gown. He was hunched over, rubbing his nose (like he always did), he had all his hair back, but that was really all the detail I saw. What stood out to me was the light behind him. It was directly behind him and rays of light shone brilliantly out away from his body. That was it. He never spoke to me, never looked at me, he just sat there, ready to leave behind the pain of this world.

I was jolted out of my restless sleep by the telephone ringing at 5 am. I knew exactly who was calling so it was no surprise to me when I went downstairs to find my mom ready to go. She had spent the previous evening by my dad's bed, singing to him and talking to him. He had his eyes on her the entire time. It was difficult to leave, but exhaustion and the knowledge that my dad never liked any of us to stay through the night brought her home. When she arrived home, she told me this was it. She had said goodbye and he understood.

I quickly got dressed and my uncle drove us over to the hospital. My father had passed, but they were allowing us one last chance to sit with him. A priest met us at the door. As he accompanied us up to my dad's room he made some small talk, mostly about the floor my dad was on and how most hospice/cancer patients die at dawn. I thought that was interesting, and I wasn't sure if he was being truthful or not, but I like to think he was.

Upon entering the room, the priest noted that not only did my father die at dawn, but he was facing east, out his window, toward the Long Island Sound (one of his favorite spots!), as if waiting for the sunrise. The priest wouldn't have know this, but it was instantly apparent to me that this was very unusual for my father. In his last weeks, he had a terrible time with his right arm, so much so that we had to keep him off it and he was unable to turn his head to the right without being in pain. The fact that he was in that position was a point of interest for me. I also remembered my dream, the light behind him...

What a glorious thing it would be to see the sunrise only to realize it was the Son coming to take us home. O Come, all ye Faithful.