Resting in The Promises of God By Melissa Henderson Easter Sunday is an emotional time for my family. As we prepare for the celebration of the Resurrection of Jesus, our hearts are filled with memories of a special Easter in 1998. On April 12, 1998, which was Easter Sunday that year, my Daddy passed into the arms of the Lord. Daddy had been diagnosed with lung cancer. His experience with lung cancer was a rough one. After Daddy went through numerous tests to find the cause of his coughing, trouble breathing, and fatigue, our family sat in the doctor’s office and waited for guidance and answers. Mama, Daddy, my two sisters, Carol and Glenda, and I each chose a chair around a large table in the conference room. The doctor spoke and gave us the lung cancer diagnosis. We were heartbroken. We had questions, and the doctor tried to answer each one. I wanted to know what would happen next. I wanted to “fix” the problem. Each one of us handled the news differently. Some moments we spoke out with concerns about a plan of action, while in other moments, we sat still shocked at the news. With a plan in place, Daddy would receive radiation treatments over a course of time. We had no idea when or if the treatments would help. We prayed for Daddy to have relief from this terrible disease. Sadness filled our hearts.
8PAGE | M7 AG A Z I N E N A M E 3
Our Daddy was a true gentleman. He never met a stranger. He helped people with whatever they needed, even when he didn’t have anything to spare. I remember standing beside Daddy in church. I was a young girl and was very proud of my Daddy. His deep voice singing the old hymns while I watched in awe. His suit fit perfectly and his strong hands held the hymnal down low so I could follow along. At home, he read the Bible aloud and helped me memorize John 3:16. We sat on the living room floor and he pointed out verse after verse and shared their meaning. My sisters and I each have unique and special memories of Daddy. We told each other, “You are his favorite.” When, in fact, we three girls were all his favorites. On Sunday, April 12, 1998, when we realized he was nearing the end of his earthly life, Hospice was called to come and give an assessment. The nurse was patient, calm, and compassionate. We appreciated her kindness. As family members gathered at his bedside, we watched as each passing moment brought his breath slower and slower, until there was no more breath left to exhale. My sisters and I each have a different recollection of some of the things that happened that day. I do believe God blessed us with special memories that are unique to each of us.
