KennethRing

It’s a new day and there are things to do and decisions to make.  I now have to decide if I should stay in my home which I really cannot afford to do, or should I sell, rent it out, or trade with someone suitable.  The  time for mourning is shortened but not softened by the practicalities of life.  Now it is a new day and it is time for sound decision making.  I am looking in the newspaper for rentals, asking people I know if there are any good ones in their area, watching for deals that might be affordable.  But, not seeing anything that looks tempting yet.  That’s alright because there is so much to do to get ready for whatever comes.  Forty four years of memories to go through, raising children, souvenirs, and some things that should have been done away with years ago.  How will I ever get through all there is to do, sell/rent a home, distributing things to the family I want them to have, and still keep up with the day to day schedule and legalities I am dealing with concerning Kenny’s passing.  There is way too much to do, but it is the way of our culture that makes this time of your life pressure filled instead of the peace that should be allowed to you on the passing of a loved one.

But now I would like to make reference to the service we had for Kenny.  It was beautiful and very meaningful to me and our children and family.  We arrived at the church we had chosen for his services, Center Chapel,  instead of a mortuary, at 10 a.m. to set up the things we brought to honor him and his time here on earth.  Included was his beloved trumpet that he had taken lessons on as a child, as did our older son.  He had it repaired and refinished a few years ago and it shined like a new horn.  He played that trumpet at our youngest son’s wedding, and he liked to get it out and play it on holidays or when he was happy.  He was very good at the trumpet and held first chair in the Muncie Central Bearcat marching band.  It sat proudly in amid all the flowers.  Also included were picture collages our daughters and daughter in law put together, pictures of him at important times of his life, school days, accomplishments,  weddings, new babies, holidays, all evidence of a rich full life.  Our eldest son had a display on his computer of Kenny’s life.  We did anything and everything we could think of to honor him.  And then the calling hours began at 11 a.m.  and so many people came to pay their respects and tell us interesting stories of how Kenny had helped them at one time or another with their cars, or maybe they had worked with him at one of his places of employment and they would tell us funny things that happened, or tricks that were played, or maybe they cried because they were going to miss him so much and who would they find with the knowledge of cars he had that goes back to the 1950’s and earlier.  One of the most important family members in attendance was our Border Collie, Bridget.  We got special permission from the pastor to bring her as one of Kenny’s best friends.  After all, she went to work with him every day and is a real lady with excellent manners.  She would go to greet people as they came in  and then would go politely to an out of the way place to lie down until the next greeting.  Everyone loved her.  So, appropriately there were tears, smiles and laughter.  That’s the way life should be.  When we went in for the service our pastor did such a wonderful job with it.  He talked to each of us about our memories of Kenny and pulled us up to a new level of understanding of how important we all were to each other.  And he spoke of what a good man Kenny was and of course how much he had helped him with vehicles.  Kenny was a “master” mechanic.  He really did go to the Master and ask his help with problems he might be having with a certain vehicle.  Many times he would tell me of something he was working on that was particularly difficult and he would pray and the answer would come.  He would know exactly what to do to fix the problem.  Sometimes he would even dream the answer.   We were very fortunate to know this man and to be his family.  And at the end of the service that concluded everything.  There was not two long days of calling hours, services, and rides to the cemetery.  It was quiet and peaceful, not long and stressful.  When we left we felt uplifted instead of heavy grieving.  We were very grateful for such a wonderful way to celebrate and honor his life.

My first  beginning after Kenny left was adjustment.  The first night without him.  It was treacherous territory because it was new.  I had not been without him in my life for forty four years.  I was eighteen when we married and he had turned twenty, two weeks before.  Two kids that thought they were grown up but were  barely out of school.  We should have been getting ready for college, but we decided Sonny and Cher were right.  “I Got You Babe”.  That was all we needed, each other and thousands of dollars to take care of us and the babies that were coming up.  And so we got married and lived happily ever after?  Hardly!  There were lots of hard times ahead.  We were babies raising babies.  But we pulled ourselves up by our bootstraps and by the time Kenny walked off into the sunset without me, we had raised four wonderful children into adulthood, and had nine amazing grandchildren and their wonderful mothers.  We owned and operated four successful businesses and had many other jobs besides.  We had a house, eight acres with a pond and catfish that Kenny and  all of us loved.  So life was interspersed with the good times and the hard times, but life went on as it always does, flowing like a river.

Then one day before we were ready we had to say goodbye.  Except we didn’t get to do so.  We turned to look one more time but it was too late.  He was gone and I didn’t get to see those beautiful eyes twinkle one more time with the joke he was telling me or the trick he was playing on me.  At that last moment I was bereft.  Beyond consolation.  But later as I thought about it I knew it was the best thing.  You see the last four months of Kenny’s life he couldn’t speak.  A complication from the treatments he received.  Four months without speaking, eating (he had a feeding tube) barely sleeping, and weakness from weight loss.  The list could go on.  But he was a brave and proud man and he met every day and every indignity with courage.  He never complained one time.  He allowed me to do whatever needed to be done without protest.  He kept his dignity.  Then, the day before he passed over to the other side, an uncaring, heartless physician looked at him and treated him like a piece of meat instead of a human being.  Kenny stared at me looking deeply into my eyes as he was being verbally attacked by the “doctor”, the “healer”.  He never looked away until it was time to leave the office.  One thing I have to add here in defense of loving and caring physicians, nurses and caretakers everywhere.  We have had “angels” in attendance with so many of these wonderful people that did everything  they could to help Kenny have relief and the best care they could give to him and for that we are eternally grateful.  I believe all of these good people know who they are since we don’t print names and they have my complete respect and gratitude.  Thanks to every one of you.  And I believe the one responsible for the actions above would also know who he is but would never accept responsibilty.  So be it.  Now, back to the blog.  The rest of the day there was little communication.  By the next morning he was too weak to get to the bathroom and I had to call my daughter to come over and help me get him back to bed.  When we got him to bed he turned over and went to sleep and never woke up.  His breathing seemed normal but he did not wake up.  I did two tube feedings during that day but he didn’t wake up.  He just slept and breathed.  Myself, two daughters, and Kenny’s mother kept the watch over him, doing the things around home that were needed, preparing for him to wake up.  Finally, a little before five o’clock p.m., my daughter said, “I think we should wake him up before I leave.”  So, we went in to awaken him.  I began to talk to him about waking up, but there was no response, just heavy breathing.  So I massaged his hands and arms talking to him, but nothing.  I pushed on his chest a few times beginning to wonder, and massaged his legs and bent them to get blood moving, but they actually felt a little stiff.  And still there was nothing.  Then suddenly there were three strange gasp like breaths, and then quiet.  We all stared and began to cry.  My other daughter called 911 and told them we needed help, her Dad had quit breathing.  Finally ambulance, police cars, fire trucks showed up in great numbers.  We had become a crime scene investigation because he died at home.  Not too long ago most people died at home.  Now it is a possible crime to investigate and understandably so with murders, drug overdoses, break-ins, etc.  Just another indignity perpetrated upon us.  Although, we did try hard to comfort the police that felt so guilty standing there watching us cry and sob and grieve.  Still it made everything more difficult.  Once I had a little control over myself I went back into the bedroom where he was on the bed.  It was so completely apparent that he had vacated the body.  I realized at that moment he was free of that body that had suffered so much being done to it in the last year and a half.  He was free and I was grateful.  Now he could walk and talk and sing again (he liked to sing country music when he was feeling good) he could even eat and drink I bet.  Free!  Even though we were missing him terribly already we were all so relieved for his sake.

So that was the end of that terrible day and it was the first “beginning”.  Going to bed without him in the house.  Sleeping through the night knowing he would never come home again.  By the time I got to bed I was so exhausted I actually did fall into a sound sleep for a few hours.  And then a miracle happened to me that some people will understand and some won’t.  I had a dream about Kenny.  He came to me and we were in a different setting and looked different than we do now.  He looked at me and said, “I want you to know that nothing is going to change.  Our relationship will go on as before.”  We talked for a while and then we kissed and parted.  And that is the way it has been.  Our relationship goes on.  There is no death.  Energy simply changes form.

One of the things you find when you lose someone you love is the immediacy of beginnings.  It begins with your first moment without them in your visual world.  It then proceeds to one hour and on until the first day is complete.  And of course for each of those beginnings there has been an ending and therein lies the pain.  As those endings rain down upon you, sometimes becoming a storm, there is the realization of what will never be again.  The smile you loved so much, the private jokes, the “someday” plans, something as simple as your next meal, or a cup of coffee together.  Endings.  But make no mistake.  With each ending there is a beginning and that is the important thing.  What do you do with the next second, the next hour, and what looks like endless days stretching ahead without them.  That is the point.  To honor them and their life here and to honor yourself and your remaining time is the goal.  That is where “Beginnings”  come into play for today and tomorrow.  To “begin” by honoring the Creator and all of His creation here and on “the other side”.  Both exist in harmony.  For some that honoring is prayer and peaceful meditation with God, for others it may be as simple as realizing their loved one is not “dead” but has simply changed forms as the law in physics states.  Both are “beginnings”.

The simplicity of prayer.

The realization there is no death but a changing of form.

“Begin” to heal one moment at a time.

Don’t ask more of yourself than that right now. Those moments will gather creating a healing balm for your heart, your loved one, and your “beginnings”.

This site is named for Kenneth Ring Sr. who recently passed away after a year-long involvement with the so-called Health Care System.  The site is written by his wife, Marsha Ring and is administrated by his son, Kenneth Ring Jr.  Feel free to register and follow the site to learn about Kenny’s journey and what his family learned in the year before his passing.  The family’s hope is that their understanding of the mistakes that were made will help others to avoid them.