UPDATE:
See Dee Bird’s tribute to Neil – and his obituary at her blog.
My brother, Herbert “Neil” Meitzler, passed away last evening. The family was there beside him to ease his journey – but looking back on the experience, I’m not so sure that the watch wasn’t only for him, but for the family as a whole.
I got notice that Neil had pancreatic cancer about 3 or 4 months ago. I called him the same day, and we talked a bit on the phone. He assured me that once the shock of realizing that he had a terminal illness was over, that he had put his faith in God (a faith bestowed upon him by our mother), and felt he had no fear of death. We lived about 600 miles apart, so haven’t seen a lot of each other in the last 20 years, During the last two months, I’ve driven to Walla Walla, Washington twice, just to spend time with him. It was time well spent.
On Friday, my brother, Steve, called me, telling me that time was short. I was on the road an hour later, and arrived Friday evening, finding that Neil was quickly fading, and that his daughters had been round-the-clock caring for him for a couple of weeks, as he became less mobile, then bed-ridden. Carrie had spent the previous night by his side, not wanting to leave him during this most-difficult of all times. Arriving Friday evening, I had a chance to say my goodbyes – and thought he might not make it through the night. Finally, it seemed that he would, and Carrie volunteered to again be there during the night for him. The next morning (Saturday), we gathered around his bed. He was actually a bit more cognizant of what was happening than he had been the night before.
The family spent the day on the deathwatch. Someone always held his hand, not out of some kind of responsibility, but out of our sincere love and the wish to be there, letting him know that we cared for him. Every little bit, we’d swab out his mouth, attempting to keep it moist, as having ones’ mouth all dried-out must be extremely uncomfortable. As I said before, the watch was for us as well. We read scripture aloud. We sang – every now and then someone would begin to sing one of the family’s favorite hymns (lots of Bill and Gloria Gather material especially), and the rest of the family would join in – singing in 4-part harmony. I like to think that this was helpful for Neil, but I know that it helped the family deal with Neil’s pending loss to us. We exchanged stories of family experiences, especially those in which Neil played a major part. A local pastor that worked for hospice came by several times, comforting the family, and assuring Neil of God’s love.
Just after 8 p.m. last night Neil’s breath began to be more shallow. I had noticed that his pulse in the previous hour was extremely erratic – so much so that it was becoming more difficult to count. What had been a strong heartbeat of 140 beats per minute, had slowed down considerably. At 8:30, my dear brother took his last breaths, and his heart stopped. By 8:31 pm on Saturday, February 21, 2009, Neil was returned to the care of his heavenly father. Goodness… I can’t see the screen, as my eyes are overflowing something awful.
I wrote the above, not as a tribute to my brother (I promise I’ll do that a bit later), but as an admonition to my readers. If at all humanly possible, do not miss the deathwatch for your loved ones. It’s important to the family – and plays an important part in the life cycle.
Now I must go… I have a long road trip ahead of me today, but not nearly as long as the journey Neil took last night.
I invite my readers and many friends to take a moment to add a bit about your family’s deathwatch experiences in the “comments” section below.
I wish you Peace in your loss and I wish to thank you for sharing your brother’s last day with us.
Yes I would like to add something here – thank you for the invitation…
At the end of July 2004 I was out at Lake Tahoe with my wife’s family for a family reunion. We had flown in to Salt Lake City to spend a few days at “The Library” and then after that got a rental car and drove to Lake Tahoe to spend a week there. I already had in place plans to travel to Christchurch, New Zealand about a month later to see Mum who hadn’t been well with failing kidneys, and Dad who had had a heart attack himself while Mum was in hospital. My brother from Australia and my sister from Auckland New Zealand were also co-ordinated on this plan so we would all be there together at the end of August.
Half way through our time at Lake Tahoe I got a phone call message passed to me from my sister in New Zealand that my Mum had suffered quite a setback and the doctors had given her 2 weeks to live. So from a dingy little phone booth room at the camp I spent quite some time haggling with Qantas about the ticket I had already purchased to go to New Zealand to get it bought forward 3 weeks so I could go immediately but to no avail, so I purchased another ticket.
We drove back to SLC as scheduled (nearly 600 miles) on a Saturday, flew to Grand Rapids Michigan on Sunday, unpacked the luggage, washed the clothes, repacked the luggage and Monday I was off on the 28 hours of flights to Christchurch, New Zealand.
My brother had already come from Australia, and my sister from Auckland, so when I turned up kind of jet-lagged and shell shocked on Wednesday morning our whole family was able to be together for Mum’s last days which they had decided would be at home. Luckily when I got there Mum was still Mum, and we could converse and joke and laugh, but as the time passed she became less Mum as she faded away from not eating, and kidney failure, and eventually lapsed into unconsciousness, and the left us in the middle of the night – 2 weeks from when the Doctors had delivered their shocking news.
During this time, we spent days at home with Dad, the 4 children with their laptop computers going much of the time, reminiscing, catching up and running various errands.
During her last 2 weeks Mum had helped my Dad arrange her funeral, including instructing him on where the olde 78 rpm record that had been made of her singing back in about 1948 was kept so that it could be played at her funeral (I digitised it so it could be played in the church from a CD player). I haggled more with Qantas about extending my stay in New Zealand so I could stay for the funeral – this time successfully when I showed them the death notice in the newspaper!
When it was all over, and we’d had the funeral service, I flew back to the US, where I spent about 5 days before heading off back to New Zealand to use up my first bought ticket that Qantas wouldn’t let me change (I had no intention of letting them have the money without flying me somewhere!!!!). My siblings came back on their previously bought tickets that they too hadn’t been able to change, and we had Mum’s burial – just a small “service” with Dad and the 4 kids putting the box of ashes into the ground at the cemetery, then my brother and I headed off to Karamea where my mother had been born and raised in search of a boulder from the mighty Karamea River that was to become her headstone. After several hours of searching (you’d think in a river full of rocks and boulders the right one would just be “right there”) we found a couple of likely candidates and loaded them into the back seat of the rental car for the trip back to Rangiora for our father to get to the monument maker.
Being 9,000 miles from family is at times difficult, but at least we were able to be together with Mum at the end.
And just 1 year (well 53 weeks) earlier my wife and I had gone through a similar experience when her father was taken after a hard 7 month battle with melanoma and cancer in his face and the side effects of a quite radical surgery. I had spent a Friday a their home near Ann Arbor Michigan, working on their van, replacing shock absorbers and brakes, with assistance from Bob who was still undergoing radiation treatments on his face, and he seemed fine. I came home that evening. Sunday morning he collapsed getting out of bed, and by the time Lisa and I got to Ann Arbor from Grand Rapids early afternoon he had lapsed into unconsciousness from which he never escaped. We took care of him at his home for nearly a week before he passed – during the night the day before Lisa and I were ready to fly off to Glasgow, Scotland for the Clan Moffat Society AGM there – a trip that he had encouraged (and paid for our tickets and hotel in Edinburgh so we could go to the Edinburgh Tattoo), and that Lisa’s mum insisted we take even in these circumstances.
And even writing this all down seems to help somehow too.
Dear Leland,
I’m so sorry about your brother. You’ll always be glad that you spent his last hours with him.
My thoughts are with you and Patty.
Thank you for writing this. I know it was hard, but not being there for your brother and kicking yourself later would have been much worse. You and the family did it the “right” way, and you all will have many good memories of Neil and of this sad, yet celebratory, time. I look forward to your memories.
All the best — Randy
Dear Leland,
My deepest sympathy goes out to you and your family in this time of sorrow. Your account of the deathwatch is eerily familiar as I sat round the clock with my father when he was dying (also from pancreatic cancer) some 17 years ago. I too feel it is something that although emotionally difficult, is something I will always be glad I did. My prayers for peace and comfort go out to you, your brother and your family.
My sincere sympathy to your and your family, Leland.
Leland, I empathize. We just enrolled my mother in hospice care last week.
When you have a chance, pick up the new (March 2009, I think) Smithsonian with the article about do-it-yourself after-death care. It complements your experience with a discussion that is especially meaningful to genealogists and historians, by opening the curtains we have pulled around dying.
Best wishes and prayers for you and all your, and Neil’s, family.
Barbara
Here’s my deathwatch account: http://www.joshclaybourn.com/mom.html
Leland,
Our sympathies to you, Patti and the family. It was kind of you to share these thoughts with us. Your posts are always insightful – and this one, so personal, had most of us remembering similar family moments or contemplating ones yet to be.
May the Lord bless you and yours at this time.
Tom & Vi
Leland,
Thank you for sharing this story. I haven’t lost a sibling and can’t know exactly how you feel, but any family death is a sad time. Dang cancer. I am sending hugs to you, Patti, and all your family.
Hugs,
Paula
I only know you through the mail and your blogs, but my heart and sympathy goes out to you and your family.
As the song goes: “May the Lord Bless you and keep you in the palm of his hands.”
Mike
Leland, I so much appreciated you being there. I found it to be a spiritual experience, unlike any I’ve had before. I think it was Carrie and Charlotte showing such tender love, the likes of which I never knew existed, that turned on my tears.
Over the past 6 years, since I met and married Judy who is from Nampa, Idaho, I’ve driven through Walla Walla probably once a month and I made it a point to stop in going at least 1 way, so I got to know Neil a lot better then I ever had as a child, him being the oldest sibling. His departure is going to leave an empty spot in my heart, alongside Bev’s empty spot. Let’s see what we can do about bringing Erma back into our circle of close relatives, as she is all you and I have left. I’ve talked to her 2 or 3 times now this week and I think she wants more than just being informed.
Love you Leland, and thanks for the Blog. Steve
Thank you Leland, for the beautiful tribute to Dad (Neil Meitzler). Carrie and I are so glad you, Steve & Judy joined us in his home for those last hours. Carrie came all the way from Anchorage and did a beautiful job of nurturing with tenderness I haven’t seen before myself. She was inspiring. I’ve never gone thru anything like it before but as I age I realize this isn’t the end. The singing around his bedside was such a peaceful experience and I believe it eased any anxiety he still had those last hours. God bless you & we look forward to seeing you at his Celebration of Life this summer! ~ Charlotte
Leland and Patty, I’ve not posted a comment only because I could not see through the tears to do so. You know my father is down to days in his battle with pancreatic cancer and my mental involvement with him took my time………. BUT I’m so very glad that I read your wonderful inspiring words today. They were a real “warm fuzzy” and will help me in my difficult days to come. Thank you for sharing. Love, Donna
Hello Leland…thank you for sharing this experience. I’m sorry for the loss of your brother, Neil. I’ve always been thankful to him – he really taught me how to appreciate art and photography and of course his classical music. He has always had elegant taste!
I have many fond memories of him and his family when they lived in Georgia and Maryland. I was so excited and thrilled, but mostly appreciative when he gave me one of his cameras to record the encounters of my journey in photography. He helped me see the art in photography.
In my tribute to him on my blog…one thing that came to mind was that now was the time for him to put his paint brush away and to hang his canvass and allow us to celebrate him – not only as the artist but also the loving and kind person he was. I hope to write more on this soon. I’m just still in shock that he is now gone.
I, too, am thankful for Carrie and Char…I know this had to be difficult for them as well. I know their relationship was always so joyous. They always enjoyed each other’s company…there was always so much laughter. I can remember some of the time that Neil would be so mischivous about little things and he was always full of surprises. He was a good man…; a good father to them.
I pray that peace was within him during those last few hours. That he knew that he has so many that loved and cared so much for him as a person.
Neil knew how to paint life on a canvass… and when he was done, he showed us how to appreciate that journey with him. I hope now, the canvas hangs on the wall will remind us a man, a brother, a father, a friend, and an artist. God’s Artist. God’s canvass.
Safe hugz and prayers to the family of a famous artist!
Dee Bird
My “deathwatch” has not exactly been the same, but I’m the caregiver of my 20 year old son who suffers from Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. So far, we are thankful to the Lord that Tim has been doing extremely well even when there were times we just didn’t think he would survive with his respiratory and cardio issues related to DMD.
I can remember the many days and nites in ICU with him and the many times that he would go into respiratory arrest and his heart jumping up and his b/p fallen. I remember the one time the doctor told me he didn’t have much time. However, God has blessed us and Tim is still with us, even if now he has lost his ability to eat and some mobility in his left arm. But he still has his sense of humor.
I’m on “deathwatch” 24/7, 365 days with Tim. I don’t know when his time will come. I pray God will give him a good life, even if it is not as productive as Neil’s was. But whenever I call and talk to Neil, he always asked me about Tim. He was proud that Tim made into the University of Florida and kept his GPA up. He too knew my struggles as a single parent with a child and a terminal illness.
I could remember when Tim was first diagnosed with it, I called Neil and talked to him for a good long time. He was such a comfort to me. I was always so appreciative of his support and understanding.
Now with the sudden and sad loss of Neil, sadness just overwhelms me as my fear of the loss of Tim will come maybe too soon. I had always thought Neil will be around when that time came and I knew of anyone, probably more so than my own father, that Neil would have been much more of a support. I knew he was praying for us…as he knew I always had Neil in my thoughts and prayers and more so after I learned of his own illness.
The grief of Tim’s illness is always on me… but now the grief for the loss of Neil is overwhelming. He always gave me so much fatherly advice and support. I’m angry I didn’t call him more often.
I pray someday, if and when Tim should pass on that he and Neil will catch up and paint some awesome pictures together. It will be a canvass God will surely hang on His wall.
Cousin Anita couldn’t make this thing work for her, so I’m forwarding on her comments. Steve
Neil was like a big brother to me, even though he was my cousin.
I had the privilege of living with and being a part of the family of Uncle Theodore and Aunt Virginia Meitzler as a young child for about four years.
While I was there, Neil was at home part of the time and gone to school part of the time.
I always have appreciated Neil as being loving, kind and gentle. He was also a dreamer that may have inspired me to dream as well and go into writing.
One of my favorite paintings was one of scenery that I remember as a little girl. I was most impressed with birds silhouetted in the sky. One year when we went to Auburn Academy as a family for a special occasion (possibly Neil’s high school graduation) Neil stood up in front of what I thought of as a huge audience with art tools and an easel. There, in front of everyone he painted the entire landscape. He was about to exit the stage when he quickly came back and added the almost-forgotten birds.
Another memory I loved of Neil was a rare moment when he could escape from all of us kids. He had climbed on top of the chicken house and was drawing a landscape.
On the personal level, I remember when Neil taught me to shinny a rope that hung from a huge tree just outside the South Prairie house’s back door. I was pretty proud of myself. But I also discovered where to go if I didn’t want to obey Neil while he was babysitting me.
We took some long walks when he would come visit my parents and me in North Puyallup. He shared some very old lessons during those visits – the kind passed down from one generation to the next. One was the story of why a man always should walk on the sidewalk by the street. It was because years ago, people threw their dish water out upper story apartment building windows (I believe in England.) The ladies were protected by an overhead ledge. The men, however, often took quite a dousing.
During the past few years, Neil and I have been separated by miles. Whenever he was in town, he’d try to come visit at whatever church my husband Bob and I were pastoring.
We had a chance to share things of the Lord by email. These were my most treasured memories. Neil truly love and I believe still loves the Lord with all his heart. What a blessing, the way the Holy Spirit gave him such calmness and peace of heart and mind.
I love you, Neil. You are and always will be near my heart.
Cousin, Anita Earnest Hatch Donihue