It was just after midnight when my brother got the call from the hospital. My mom came in the room, and when she saw him on the phone at that hour of the night, she knew it couldn't be a good sign. A few minutes later, he turned the phone over to her and came and got me. My worst fears were confirmed when we got into the kitchen and he said, "Dad just died."
The hospital wondered if we would like to come see him before they moved him to the morgue. I knew I needed to go. Once my mom was done talking to them, we gathered in a hug, the three of us huddled together in grief. We got dressed and went to the hospital. One of the nurses met us at the door and escorted us up, as it was after visiting hours. He looked much more peaceful than he had a few hours previous when I had talked to him and said my good byes (but in the hopes I would be able to come back the following day to talk more, and hoping and praying he would recover against all odds). A charity had donated quilts to the hospital for patients on comfort care, which the family got to keep. We gathered around his bed. It was an important part in saying good bye, but I hadn't expected it to be so soon! He went so quickly. We took his belongings and the quilt home. The quilt is now on our couch. We would get to see him once more, a few days later at the funeral home.
 |
The jar
(My painting Le mont Rainier is in the background.
As it was December, we had our nativity scenes up.) |
As friends and family heard the news, people started sending flowers. I got a big bouquet from my team at work. It meant a lot. But the most meaningful gift for me came from my friends
Kim and Jason Kotecki. I have mentioned them on my blog in the past. Jason is a masterful artist who has done many amazing paintings. One of his recent paintings is called
Hope in the Darkness. It has a mason jar on the grass with fireflies inside and flying upward out of the jar. There are trees at night in the background. It is dark, but the light from the fireflies indicate hope, bright lights flying through the air and providing their own light where there isn't much. (My blanket has that painting on it as well.)
 |
Hope in the Darkness
Jason Kotecki, 2020
Used with permission |
I picked up the box from them at our door and wondered if I had ordered something from them and had forgotten about it. It was heavier than I expected. When I opened the box, I found a mason jar with rocks in it. I was confused at first, but after a bit of examination realized what it was. It had semitransparent blue river rocks with fairy lights wrapped around the rocks inside the jar. It also has an on/off switch and a battery compartment. It harkens back to his painting.
The flowers we received were very meaningful, but that jar lamp meant more to me than I can express. I use it all the time before going to bed. In a way, it's almost like my dad is there with me, shining a light into the room. I miss him.
But their kindness didn't stop there. Kim and Jason's oldest daughter Lucy makes amazing winter hats. I ordered some at an excellent price, and she outdid herself. Jason's dad Walt (a cancer survivor and an amazing person) offered to talk by phone and be a comfort. All of that meant the world to me.
Kim recently lost her dad. I pray for their family's comfort and encourage anyone who feels so inclined to join me. I'm so thankful she got to spend time in the hospital with her dad before the end. We've had so much grief and loss in the past few years. COVID, international conflicts, earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes, shootings, cancer, and so much more. We all need comfort and love. The world needs more families like the Koteckis, who make an effort to reach out and offer a prayer, a hug, an ear to listen, creativity, immense talent, and so much more. Kim likes to talk about chosen family, who are not related by blood, but are as good as family. They are part of my chosen family.
There is always hope in the darkness. Even in the darkest night, there are always glimmers of light and hope if we know where to look. The Koteckis remind me to be the light for someone who needs it.
