Hello Dear Family and Friends,
The day before Bob's dad died, one of our ministers, Tony Gonzales, came in and said all the rights things and then prayed with us. Bob and I were at peace and very calm when the end was near. Dave was driving a car and in ok shape until a bout of pneumonia in early December. Another pneumonia in the second week of February, was devastating, and eventually fatal to Dave. He was 84 years old.
Two days before Gordon Davidson died, Feb. 16th, I worked out at the gym, and planned to go by Univ. Heights Conval. Ctr. and check on him real quick and then shower at home. But, he was more lucid than I had seem him in a week. He wanted to sit up! We sat up a while and he wanted his walker....he wanted to go home....he wanted to know the room number he was in...I thought he had rallied again! I took him on his first wheel chair ride around the convalescent home. I went very slow, and if he turned his head to look at anything or anyone, I stopped, and when he looked forward we kept going. He was interested in everything, fish tank, beauty shop, the logistics of the place. A dushound, brown, little floppy ears and ever moving short legs and tail, visited rooms, as he and his owner came toward us in the hall. We stopped to watch this happy little dog make his was toward us....a smile was on Dave's face that I had not seen in a while.
A guy coming at us, also in a wheel chair, had a shirt on that said, "ARMY". I stopped as Dave turned his head and made eye contact. I thought they would talk, but both straightened up their backs and tilted their heads at each other. Dave looked straight ahead, the other guy did too, we were off again. I was with him about 2 hours...so nice. I left at 1:30 PM and Bob got there at 3:30 PM. In that short period of time Bob's dad lost his ability to be understood, he only mumbled. He eventually got much worse and died at 2:30 AM Feb. 18th.
Planning a funeral in one day is much like planning a wedding in one day, the mortuary, flowers, music, minister, call all the people, pick out clothes for the deceased, pick out clothes for yourself, get hair cut, shine shoes, food for showing and food for meal after funeral, military burial, honor guard, my daughter-in-laws father to play taps on his trumpet, and newspaper announcements. All of the same components. I talked on the phone continuously for a whole day and Bob did too. This, of course would be so much more complicated if you lived out of state.
Everything went real well. We should have contacted more people, so little time.......The day of the funeral, Feb 21, 2009, was a near blizzard condition. A wet heavy snow and fierce wind was so cold. As we followed the Hurst to the burial sight, the snow stopped and wind died down. Our ministers message, the words spoken by the grey haired military honor guards, the guns firing, the playing of taps....so perfect to honor this man who was a proud Marine.....in the first wave of Marines at Guadalcanal....terribly wounded in the left side of his head by his ear at the battle of Palielu in the Palau Islands....lived only because his fellow Marine. Art Simpson, (later friend for life and neighbor), evacuated him under fire....thought to be dead until the medics tried to take off his Marine ring, he fought them, the ring did not come off....... His purple heart, stored in a battered black box in the drawer of the table by his bed, was in the casket.
So many people, friends, relatives, Bob's classmates from Center Grove High School, our neighbors, friends from church came to the funeral home. What a comfort the many hugs and kind words were to us. We are now getting e-mails, calls and cards from friends with their condolences. All of this "love" sits in our hearts and gives us peace.
About six months ago, I warned Dave that I wanted to talk about his military service. He said, "Why talk about that, that is the past". He acted like he was tasting a bitter pill as I talked to him twice about his Marine days. I told him I wanted his grandchildren to know what he did for our country. He would never talk about it. The story begins with his coming out of a movie theatre in Indpls and hearing Pearl Harbor was bombed by the Japanese. Dave was 17 1/2 years old. He was a Marine by January 1, 1942. His mom had to sign for him to join. Just after his 20th birthday, he was wounded at Pelieu. Two typewritten pages, newspaper clippings and a letter from a Sergeant from the hospital during his treatment for his wounds September 15, 1944, contain all the facts for Gordon Davidson Jr's heroic service to our country.
We are at peace, tired.... like we ran a race. This is, as my dad said, "The flow of life". Bob is sleeping a lot today, taking it easy. Only church this morning and taking some flowers to my mom and saying goodbye to my brother as he returns to Rockford, Illinois today. Bob retires from Allison in 3 days...the timing of all of this, God's timing is as always.....perfect. We are going to be all right, keep us in your prayers as you are in ours.
Peace and Love, Barb
Lots of room for sittin' and eatin', and a '65(?) Mustang in the background just waiting for a restoration.
Comfortable seating for tall-tale-tellers...
A full belly and comfortable seating will pretty quickly put a satisfied look on faces, and all VK's found themselves in that condition.
