Preparing for a memorial

This is the first time my Brother and I have had to plan a Memorial. My Brother really wanted to get away for two days with me so that we could focus on the details and our Eulogies. I thought we might work together on one Eulogy and take turns saying our part, but it developed into two separate pieces which we proofread for one another.

We went away to a hotel and talked through our ideas, had a few meals together, wrote out some thoughts and planned out the service and the memorial handout. It was the most time we had spent together in years. It was a special time, a difficult time, a productive time and I'm thankful for that. This trip happened on Thursday/Friday, one week after our Father passed away.

When I returned home, my mind was unsettled on what I had written and what the point of the message would be. I had so much doubt about what had just flowed out of me, sharing memories, sharing how my Dad made me feel and our special relationship. I took the next week off of work as we finalized the details. My daughter and niece and sister in law and I took a shopping trip to gather supplies for a floral arrangement. I wanted the girls to feel a part of things and put some of their touch into the Memorial for their Grandpa. We also had a day planned for all the grandkids to put together photos of Poppa on poster boards.

I had a strong sense of getting to know my Dad in new ways after he passed away, because of the stories I heard about him. I learned about friends that he was close to who really loved him, that I had not known about. Places he had lived or traveled to. I learned that he taught fishing to several people who really appreciated it. He was a skilled craftsman, hunter, fisherman. It felt very sad to think that I had missed out knowing these things about him. One thing I knew was that he would take the time to research a topic that interested my husband or my brother as a way of connecting with them. It made me wonder what he had tried to connect with me on...but it also reassured me that we had a living, growing relationship and we were dear to one another. He was a loving Father to me. He was what I needed. Eventually, I worked out what I wanted to say and it turned into this:

Psalm 40:5 says

5 Many, O Lord my God, are Your wonderful works Which You have done;

And Your thoughts toward us Cannot be recounted to You in order;If I would declare and speak of them,They are more than can be numbered.

I wanted to start with this verse because I can clearly see God’s hand in Poppa’s life. Our family heritage--moving forward in Christ and building a generation that will love and serve Him. God takes the surprising examples and does great things through them, or us. 

Poppa would mention from time to time how when I was very little, i would be so excited to see him, I would wrap my tiny arms around his neck and squeeze him so hard in a hug.

That is a good description of my relationship with him. I loved him so much, I was always excited to see him, and I was a big hugger. 

Growing up in Ontario, we would get a call once a month, on Sunday at 6pm. I was always so excited to get those calls. Any chance of connecting with my Dad was so special to me. My whole life he’d always end our calls with “Bye bye for now.”

We would travel at the beginning of summer to Toronto and fly to Vancouver as Unaccompanied minors. Those flights were so exciting for me and I felt so special getting to travel to BC to see my Dad. Andrew shared the details of how Poppa made a cushioned seat for me to sit in his truck. That project really touched my young heart, knowing he had prepared for my arrival and caring for my safety.

It was a fun adventure to spend time with him and be a part of his daily life for those two months. I realize now, how much effort he put into preparing for our time together. He had many outings planned to make each summer a great experience. We went to the air show with his brothers families for several years. He took us to the whale park often, we got to try wind surfing, or shoot rockets in a field, and spend time with our cousins on our Mom and Dad’s sides which was always a highlight for me.

One summer he had bikes ready for us and these cute biker hats. We would go on bike rides together all the time. That particular summer, living on 2nd Avenue were some amazing memories. I was twelve, and would just bike around to the park or with my cousins or neighbors. It was so special having my own room, in this brand new beautiful home, and how Diane had prepared it for my summer stay. Being that age, and living in that beautiful home, where we also spent our only Christmas together (later that same year) with him, was so special. He taught me some woodworking basics in his shop. 

He was a skilled woodworker. He built some beautiful homes and creative furniture pieces that I have in my home today. My family sits around the table he built as a Christmas gift for Andrew and I when we were roommates back when I was 19.

Part of the story that God wove as a provision for our upbringing and an area of consistency were Brethren assemblies. When we moved to Ontario, my Mother was a new Christian, having been introduced to the faith through our stepfather Richard. Our church for the next 15 years was a Brethren chapel in North Bay, Ontario. 

Meanwhile, back in BC, Poppa was dealing with the loss of his kids and was seeking the Lord. Poppa told me that he got saved at Christian Life Assembly in Langley in 1982 and He told me they said: you don't want to hang out with a bunch of old fogies, go find a Bible study in White Rock with people your own age--and so he looked up Hilltop Gospel Chapel and started attending there. 

In the summers when we would come visit we attended the same type of Brethren assembly. I have recognized the gift from God this was in my life, learning solid Bible teaching and a love for God’s word and having consistency in Ontario and in BC!

Poppa was funny. He smiled a lot, joked around and had so many stories to tell. Since humor was a way we had communicated our entire relationship, I would force myself to tell him funny anecdotes, even in these final 10 weeks. He introduced me to a very silly song called Don’t Bury Me when we were talking about end of life plans.   And even the day before he went to be with the Lord he chuckled at my joke. 

He was also very serious when it came to his faith and he put a lot of time and effort into studying the scriptures. He was told that he could explain the scriptures in a very clear way, and earlier this year he gave his testimony at this assembly and was told by many how much it touched people. I tried a few times to get him to tell me his testimony so I could record it but he always said “not today. I’d need to be feeling better first.” Or “id need to be in a better mood.” Throughout his many moves around BC: Parker Street, 14A Avenue,  2nd Avenue, WIllowbrook near Oliver, Rock Creek, Kelowna, Courtney, back to Chilliwack and then White Rock, Poppa attended various Bible studies and chapels.

Poppa was intentional about witnessing or sharing his faith. When he lived on 14A Avenue, he had a neighbour with lots of little daughters. The girls would come and knock on his door and just walk in and sit at the table for some food whenever they felt like it. Poppa struck up a friendship with their Mom and was instrumental in her accepting Jesus and going on to raise her daughters in the faith. 

As a grandpa, Poppa had great joy from the grandkids presence and was delighted to see that they, like his children, were choosing to follow the Lord. Poppa made a point to come out to meet each new baby that joined our family. I love looking at the pictures of him cuddling the babies and looking them in the face. He came to many of the birthday celebrations for the grandkids (especially if it coordinated with good fishing in the area and he’d stay over for a few days). I loved going on little outings with him and my kids. One thing we did for several years in a row was going to have a fruit waffle from Krause Berry Farm for Father’s Day. Often it was with Bennett, since he had less days at school. Poppa loved our waffle outings. Another enjoyable meetup we would have was to go for ice cream at Birchwood Dairy in Abbotsford, or Purdy’s Chocolates in the mall (which has the best prices). Ice cream was definitely a connection between all of us with Poppa. 

Also, funny story about honoring him as a Grandfather: I always thought his Danish heritage was cool and when it came time to welcome our fourth and final child, we decided we would honor the Dads that raised me by giving Bennett Paul’s middle name of Antony—no H—and My stepdad Richard’s middle name Henri (because he’s French Canadian)—so Bennett Antony Henri was named. Fast forward a year and my Dad says “so I had to get my birth certificate reprinted and it turns out that my middle name is actually AnTHony—with an H.” Literally his entire life his Mother told him his name was AnTony—which I thought was because it’s Danish. 

The pain of the past and the struggles Poppa had, led him to some very low months or years, where he struggled with mental health challenges and would stop attending church. I could never accept that that was really him, and using my God-given gift of encouragement and exhortation, I could not just leave him in that state. 

Romans 15:13

13 Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

I challenged him and would check in on him and pray for him. I’m so thankful that he had returned to fellowship, and Bible study and discussions and that he had a spiritual mind these last few years to face the coming trial. He was a spiritual leader to us in how he took the news, accepted it without denial and had peace. Right from the beginning of his diagnosis, he texted me about how he had a rough night physically and it was hard to take but that he was “sooooo thankful I am saved, Praise You Jesus!!”

My prayer for him this last month, knowing that his health was declining, was that Poppa would finish well, that he would have a spiritual mind and connecting with God. I want to close with a verse that I saw lived out by my Dad in his last weeks:

Romans 8:6

For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the spirit is life and peace.

Its hard for us to comprehend that dying would give someone life and peace but it really did. His great gift to us at the end, was peace, comfort, that he was okay to go and that we could let him go. I love you Poppa, Bye bye for now. 

~~~~~

The table is an example of the skilled woodworking he made. His cowboy hat and bolo ties. His favourite property that he loved in Rock Creek area. The floral arrangements the girls and I worked on.

Here is the full service:

the obituary

When October 2019 hit, my Father's health was in obvious decline. He had palliative nurse-at-home visits and I was able to attend most of them. The nurses were very compassionate, they encouraged him to partake in comfort measures for the time being and to take the steroid that had been prescribed (that Poppa was uncomfortable committing to). They also asked for him to take this heavy duty pain med (although he had not complained of pain really for the last month--which we accepted as a miracle considering his cancer location). He clearly told them he did not want to take it because it was too strong and he was sensitive to medications and that particular one had caused violent dreams and essentially throwing himself out of bed into the wall.

The nurses planned to see him on Monday and then check in or come visit him also on Friday. It irritated both of us that they would repeat the same questions from the previous visit, as if they hadn't read the file notes. Anyway, he repeated that he did not want the pain med again but by this time he had tried the steroid for several days and had enjoyed feeling a bit more peppy and was making some plans to take a ferry ride with all of us. He was slightly perked up and happily eating for about 3 days. But then, by Friday's meeting with the nurse, he was very tired, almost dozing off during the meeting. He went right to bed and I went out to buy myself some of the best fish and chips in White Rock, and he requested gravy with fries. When I returned to his condo, he was completely asleep so i didn't know what to do--wake him and he'd be upset to be woken, or save the food in the oven and it might be too cold to enjoy when he woke. I decided to wait. He woke up when I only had about ten minutes before I needed to leave to go get kids from school. He was disappointed the food was not hot, but ate a piece of fish and seemed to enjoy it. That was his last time eating solid food. The weekend resulted in more decline. He barely ate, other than some delicious soup from my sister in law. He was preparing to wean himself off of the steroid because of a misunderstanding.

Monday October 7th was another visit from a nurse and she did not rebook. I found that odd to just leave him as is so I called and requested that they would now come daily to see him as he seemed weaker and weaker and wasn't having any appetite. He was not taking his pills and was very tired.

On Tuesday, October 8th my four kids and husband all came out to see my Dad. I told them this might be the last time. He smiled so big having them there. He was happy to hold their hands and get a hug. We watched a gold mining tv show together during our visit. Heres a nice pic from healthier times:

I was scheduled to work on Thursday October 10th but was really torn. It was a beautiful sunny day and I just wanted to be with my Dad and take him out in the sun. I didn't know there were any issues specifically, but just that the nurse had helped him fill out forms for Hospice the day before. I mentioned to my supervisor that things were going pretty downhill for my Dad and she said "Are you sure you should be here? You don't have to be. If you need to go, just tell me." I felt sick to my stomach for the next hour and just kept thinking over and over "No, I don't want to be here. If I don't have to be, I should probably leave. I want to be with my Dad."

I worked for one hour and then left. I called my brother and found out that they were told by the nurse who came to see him that day to take him to Hospice now. I didn't quite know what to do or where to go because I live one hour from my Dad's home and one hour from the Hospice. I went home and rested for a bit waiting to hear what to do from my brother. Finally, I decided to head to my Dad's home. I arrived just after the ambulance had arrived. Met up with my Brother and step Sister and step Mom. Got the low down. My brother and I headed to Hospice together to help settle Poppa in while he took the ambulance.

My Dad could still get up and stand. He was communicating. We joked a little together. My brother and I left when we felt that we had done all we could to get him settled. We had no idea how long he would stay at Hospice and kept getting answers like "it could be 3 hours, it could be weeks, likely not months. The average stay is 19 days in BC Hospices."

Poppa said goodbye, gave us hugs and smiled as we left him. So we went home, not knowing what the next days would hold.

Early on October 11th, our step Mother's birthday, she got a call to come in because my Father's breathing had changed. I waited a few moments and then decided that my kids and husband and I would all go and plan to spend the day at Hospice, to be with my Dad and my brother's family.

We ate a good breakfast, got coffee, and headed there with snacks and drinks. Each child brought a book or two because we figured it would be a quiet place to spend the day. The hospice was beautiful and inviting and had lounge areas and a huge outdoor courtyard. Upon arriving, my Dad, no longer speaking, made an audible expression that he knew I was there now.

We held his hand. Each child spoke to him and gave him a hugs. We spent some time singing Hymns that my step Mom would request. It was a good family time. My husband and kids were amazing that day, kind and cooperative and very supportive.

Around 3pm, I felt really restless. I just wanted to leave and have a break from being around all of this. I prayed and asked God to help me with a decision because I felt like I was being rebellious or selfish in the moment. I decided that I should stay the night. The previous night, i left thinking that he was so close to death, and if it were to happen, I was ready for that. Today, my heart softened to a place of caring for him. I wanted to provide any comfort or support he might need. I took Derek aside and said I needed to talk about something. Derek said, "I've been thinking: what if when someone is dying, and alone they feel sad or lonely; and what if when someone is not alone, they feel comforted or loved in those last moments. I think you should stay with him." So we were on the same page and  I decided to stay.

My step Mom left to go home around this time and my Brother stayed til around 5pm. Our family stayed until 6pm and when the kids each said goodbye and announced that they were going home, he changed his breathing to where it almost sounded like crying. And then I was alone with my Dad.

Sometimes he would reach up his arms and so I'd talk to him and hold his hand and settle his arm back down. My brother and sister in law returned to visit around 7pm. We chatted together and stopped for silence whenever his breathing would have a long break.

I had a private moment with my Dad moments before he took his last breath, and it was very special and I'm glad I decided to be with him til the end. He passed away at 8:45pm on his dear wife's birthday, on October 11 2019. I was so grateful to Jesus that this struggle was over for him. Peace.

https://www.peacearchnews.com/obituaries/paul-anthony-mellenger/

MELLENGER, Paul Anthony

Gone to be with His Lord and Savior on Friday, October 11, 2019 at age 73. Paul was born in Saint John, New Brunswick on August 7, 1946. He was the third of five boys. When Paul was 16 the family moved from New Brunswick to White Rock, BC. 

Paul was an intelligent pursuer of skills and knowledge and could discuss any topic at length! Many appreciated that he always had a unique and thoughtful perspective to share.

He loved his time as a logger in the Queen Charlottes and had many stories from that time. He was a very skilled craftsman who took his love of logging to the art of fine woodworking, where he created many practical and creative pieces for his home and clients. He enjoyed renovating houses, and later in life with his wife Diane was able to build many wonderful homes throughout BC.

As an outdoorsman, he loved hunting, fishing, and horses, and enjoyed sharing these hobbies with others. He would always tune into the Calgary Stampede or attend the Cloverdale Rodeo. He had an extensive knowledge of Rodeo and enjoyed following the careers of many of the key players. 

Paul was very friendly and outgoing and could find something in common with everyone. After committing his life to the Lord in 1982, he enjoyed fellowship at various Brethren assemblies throughout BC. He was a gifted Bible teacher and we wish we could have heard more from him before his quick decline in health. He found great comfort knowing that his children and grandchildren have chosen to follow the Lord and serve in their home churches. Paul was peaceful and confident in the end, knowing the Hope of his salvation and recognized that he would soon be with the Lord. 

Paul is survived by his faithful wife of 33 years, Diane (née Scott); by brother Richard (Beverly), sisters-in-law Marie, Charlotte and Deb, children Andrew (Heather) Mellenger, Amanda (Derek) Salmon, stepdaughters Melinda (George) Burns, Delena (Russ) Angrignon, and grandchildren Miles, Diedre, Ezekiel, Poppy, Audrey and Bennett. Predeceased by Parents Emma (née Michaelsen) and Alexander Mellenger, Brothers Claude, Alexander and Michael.

A memorial service is planned for 11am, Saturday, October 26, 2019 at Langley Christian Assembly, 4775 - 221st Street, Langley, BC. 

My Father, My Hero

Life is slowly slowing down
The end is coming
I see that you’re ready
It’s as if you’ve been given permission
It’s time to go—God is waiting for you

All my life
My Father, My Hero
I didn’t know all you were
Til I was older
I am so thankful for your great love
You have given me what I needed

I am so thankful to God,
For how He weaves the story
We all became His children
That’s a miracle in itself
Thank You, God, for giving me my Father

All my life
My Father, My Hero
I didn’t know all you were
Til I was older
I am so thankful for your great love
You have given me what I needed

God redeems, that’s just what He does
When we recognize it’s Him
What a blessing we receive
Thank You, God, for caring for me
For giving me a loving Father

-----------

I wrote this on September 27 2019 the day after Poppa got the news from his oncologist that he likely only had 4-6 months. 

On August 1st 2019 he was terribly jaundiced and had been ill with gastro issues for weeks. He had been away on a fishing trip in July but got so weak that he had to pack up his camp and take the ferry back home. He woke up so ill on August 1st, they called my brother at 7am to take him into emergency. My family and I were on our way down to Portland for our only big family trip of the summer. I was getting text messages all morning and was trying to decide if we needed to return or could continue on with our plans. Finally, hours later, they got the scan results back that he did have a tumor that appeared to be putting pressure on his bile duct, blocking it and causing the jaundice. The were quite certain the tumor was located on his pancreas, and mentioned 99% sure it was cancer, but said confirmation would come at a later date. Poppa took the news as cancer. He texted me the results and said "Soooo thankful I am saved, Praise You Jesus!"

We did continue on with our weekend plans in Portland and I would check in on him every day, morning or evening. On Saturday, the day of my tournament, everything went late, I was outside of cell range, when I finally went into cell range, my phone went off with a flurry of notifications. I was so scared as I pulled over to check my messages. There were messages from my family about my Dad but more shockingly, was from my step sister who suddenly had lost her own Mother in law. She was getting a planned surgery, things went well. After a short time she had some complications and had further surgery which had such disappointing results and an incredibly sad conclusion to what was a day filled with hope. We took some time to contact my step sister and husband, two dear people and grieve together. Such an unexpected and awful shock to us all.

My Dad, in terrible pain, waited through the weekend for news of his next steps. He got the stent surgery on his 73rd birthday the next week, on August 7th. We were able to have a good visit and prayer time with myself and my children the day before. He was worried to go into surgery, especially after what happened to sweet Barb. He heading into surgery with the calm assurance of his faith in Jesus. The stent surgery went very well and they were able to scrape the tumor to get a sample for testing. Very quickly we got the results that it was indeed pancreatic cancer. We then waited for over a week for a call for his surgery date to get whipple surgery. When the week came and went, we finally got the name of a surgeon sorted out (there was a real problem with keeping all the doctors sorted). Upon contacting the surgeon, we were informed that there was no intention of a surgery date, first there would be a meeting to discuss options--so that meeting got scheduled. Every day felt critical at this point. When we finally got to see the surgeon, I recorded the meeting and asked the questions that the family had discussed for me to ask. We had brought him into the meeting in a wheelchair because he had been very tired and we wanted to preserve his energy. Apparently that was a mistake because the surgeon was disappointed to see he was feeling weak. We found out that day that he needed to get stronger and come back when he was walking more than sitting around in any given day. They said if he could gain a bit of weight and be walking around like normal, they could proceed with surgery. The surgeon said he had been relatively healthy a short time ago (maybe about 5 weeks before) and was hopeful that he could get back to that level. This was August 26.

Next we got to go to see an oncologist. My brother took him to that appointment on September 11. I wanted to go so badly but Poppa did not want too many people at the meeting and was adamant that he only wanted Andrew to take him. I could tell how much he appreciated the time and attention with Andrew. I had to work anyway, so I worked, distracted, because I wanted to be with my Dad. Anyway, the appointment was recorded, and they got good news that at this point, the goal was to get Poppa eating and getting stronger--diabetic diet was no longer necessary and he could just enjoy what he wanted to eat and gain some weight.The bad news, which Poppa had been suspicious of, was that if he was too weak for surgery, he would be too weak for chemo as well. He also seemed to be one step ahead of the bad news. Anyway, he was focused on the good news for now and went forward with every intention of getting stronger and ready to put in a good effort.

I, of course, was so distracted the next day by the news that I locked my keys in my truck while at Starbucks before work, with all my work stuff and proper shoes in there, and had a heck of a morning and was late to work by 40 minutes while I dealt with BCAA. The cafe is literally 2 minutes from my work so I just felt like an idiot.

Poppa ate delicious, rich foods for a few days and then got crippling pain in both feet and ankles which he thought was gout. He could barely walk. So the plan to go for a decent walk every day got put on hold, his jaundiced was cleared but he had ongoing bouts or harassing levels of nausea. Andrew worked so hard to find him foods that would calm his tummy troubles and help him gain weight. He was working off information that I couldn't verify online, that red meat or pork caused jaundice so even though he did not want to eat chicken, he felt he had to over what he really wanted to eat. Food became such a focus for us trying to support him. He went to see his family doctor about the gout and she recommended he go back on the diabetic diet. We were so frustrated since he was told to eat whatever tasted good to him--he was so disappointed to be put back on the diabetic diet. That didn't last too much longer.

He had a meeting with the oncologist again on September 26 so we got him back on the "eat anything" program. Unfortunately, by then, he had lost an additional 10 lbs since the last appointment, and the doc was concerned. I was at this appointment, with the job of asking some questions, and record. We asked about his nausea, wondering if it was caused by other medications he was taking, and was told, that the nausea was for sure caused by the cancer and where it was located. He also refused my request of doing another scan so we could know if it was growing because he kept saying "we know its growing" but i wanted to know, how do we know without seeing. He said it wouldn't help and we didn't need to know specifics because of the symptoms. I asked the hard questions of, where is this going, etc. The doc suggested 4-6 months. Poppa felt sure that he would not make it til Christmas. He revealed that he had been in pain (where previously, he had pretty low pain). They worked on a plan for comfort measures and prescribed a steroid to take daily to help perk him up so he could get walking and enjoy some outings. The steroid is intended for use for 3 months and then it has some pretty awful side effects, so this made me suspicious that the doc didn't actually think he would survive beyond 3 months. Poppa had lost 60 lbs since July at this point. Things were getting pretty real.

Sometime, during those weeks, I was asked to discuss end of life plans with him, and it was super awkward but he made it funny and introduced me to the song that came to mind for him, called Don't Bury Me, by John Prine. He looked it up on his iphone and we listened together to this very silly song that was "so him".