Go with God

After reconnecting with my friend Roseanne, I started to open up to a page in my dad's hand written journal. Following is the entry that I had opened the note pages...

Friday, March 24, 1972

My Dairy, by Ed Jarmulowicz

Today is my birthday and rather than write about my day, instead this day reminds me of the same date nine years back.

I was at the bakery, working on the machines, preparing them to withstand the thousands of loaves of bread that they must wrap.

A call from my wife informed me that Pa was very sick and is not expected to live. That eight hour day felt like sixteen as I was anxious to get to Chelsea.

The Priest and Doctor had left Pa, leaving Ma and Jay in an unsure state of mind.

I talked with my father and told him that I would take him for a ride on Saturday. This bit of news cheered him up enough , so that he ate some chicken soup.

I came over to Chelsea every day to change the bedding and help my mother in giving my father a sponge bath.

On Wednesday morning, my mother looked in on my father and said, "Melka, do you love me?" his wife replied. "Martin, I'll always love you." Upon this assurance, her husband said, "Stay with God." His eyes closed in a peaceful sleep, never to awaken again. Ma leaned over and kissed him on the forehead and in a silent whisper said, "Go with God."

The ride I had promised on Saturday, was fulfilled with a ride to the cemetery.

* Melka (Emelia - Me-ill-ka)