by Danielle N. Hall

1/17/2018

This morning I was trying to dress according to the weather. I was looking for my gray sweater and I remembered where I had it. I got it and remembered why I had placed it there. I still have the visitor’s stickers from the night before my dad Robert Brock-Smith, Sr transitioned.

On Monday 12/18/17, Mom and I had visited Dad after work. For some reason I felt uneasy about leaving that night. Mom was ready to go, but I told her I needed to know he was ok. A nurse came in to tend to him and she began to sing “I’m trading my sorrows. I’m trading my shame. I’m laying them down for the joy of the Lord.” She also fervently prayed for him and asked God to have mercy on him. At this point, I was content with leaving. We had exceeded the visiting hours by 30 minutes. I took Mom to the store and then to her home. I remember being brought to tears as I watched my mom take gifts and boxes for gifts in her home. She was so excited about being a blessing, even while her husband’s health was failing. I watched in awe of this great woman and called my first grade teacher expressing to her how I endeavor to be at least half the woman that she is.

I snapped out of, pulled off, and headed home. I got home and laid across the bed just trying to rest my mind. Very shortly after, my cell phone rang. It was Mom and my heart started beating fast. She said: “Danielle, the hospital just called and they moved your dad to ICU. His heart has already stopped 3 times and they don’t think he’s gonna make it through the night.” I hopped up, put on the first shoes I could grab and heading back to pick Mom up to head to the hospital.

We arrived and were escorted to his room. Soon after we heard those dreadful words as we watched things unfold before our eyes: “Code Blue, ICU”. We were asked did we want them to revive Dad. Mom affirmed. We were initially asked to step out and then we were invited back in to observe the process. It was much labor, but they were successful. However, he depended on a ventilator 100% for breathing. We were joined by my sister and a couple of my nieces and we stayed overnight.

On the morning of 12/19, Mom and I went downstairs to the cafeteria and grabbed an omelette. It was highly recommended by one of the ICU nurses. After breakfast, we returned to the room. They checked Dad’s pupils and there was no reaction when they shined the light in his eyes. At this point, Mom was ready to go. I took her home and headed to my office…looking and smelling like the day before. Fortunately, I had some toiletries available at the office and could freshen up. I stayed a short while and decided to head back home to get more clean and change clothes.

On the way home, I received a call from my daughter telling me to call my husband because his van had broken down on the side of the road and then she informed me that my son had been jumped at school. By now, I’m a bit overwhelmed. I called my husband and he contacted my son and I asked him to wait at the school for me. I headed straight to the school and, unfortunately, the school day has ended and students had already been dismissed. I met with the head of security and filed a report.

We headed home to get my youngest son and then we stopped by to see my daughter at work so she could be reassured that all was well. Our next stop was the emergency room to be examined for head injuries. Fortunately, there is a Children’s Emergency Room connected to the hospital where Dad was. The boys and I went to visit Dad that evening and then headed to the ER for my eldest son to be examined. This is how the pictures sweater has two stickers from the same date with time stamps so close. Now one of the funny things about visiting Dad is that they almost always put the wrong name on my sticker and Mom’s. Clearly that was the case this night as well. Fortunately, my son had no serious head injuries…and fortunately we went to see Dad that evening…it was the last time the boys saw him alive. On the next morning, Dad peacefully transitioned. One thing I learned during the season of my father’s major health challenge was to maximize moments and make new memories. His legacy will forever live…memories of a life spent with him will be everlasting.

This post was written in loving memory of my father, Robert Henry Brock-Smith, Sr. 4/10/1937-12/20/2017

May He forever rest peacefully.