During the past two years, Anne and I (Gary) have had the honor of serving from time to time as respite caregivers to her 98 year old step-father, Ernest Isaacsen while he has been in the recovery process from a variety of physical difficulties.  

This weekend, we celebrated Anne's birthday, and she chose to visit a former teaching associate to share in the joy of this woman's newly born child.  After we returned home from this miracle of new birth, we received a phone message that Ernest had left us that afternoon.   

His last minutes were spent sitting in the comfort of his living room by the fireplace with Anne's mother.  He was  discussing the many meaningful photos and pieces of art that had been collected on their walls.

While we lamented his loss, we were pleased with the peacefulness that accompanied his departure.  We found ourselves exchanging the many stories he had told us and recalling the special and wonderful qualities he offered as a person.

The following is a piece I wrote as part of my bereavement process.  

by Gary W. Wakenhut

  03/11/2001

Ernest was born in Northern Michigan to a pair of Norwegian immigrants.  At the age of eight years, he went back to Norway with his parents.  When they returned to the United States, they left him with an uncle until his late teens.  Ernest was left to his own resources during this time without much of a family during those formative years.  

His major responsibility was to care for the horses and to transport passengers that utilized his uncle's transportation services.  Ernest's attachment to animals began at that point, and he loved to share with us wonderful stories about his relationships with his horses and dogs that accompanied him through his life.  

He respected them deeply, and cared for them as one would for a child or anything dependent upon others for life.  They, in turn, gave him much gratitude in response.

In the early 1920's he returned to the United States, unable to speak English.  He quickly mastered the language and graduated with his fellow high school classmates.  

Hunter, fisherman, woodsman extraordinaire,  Ernie Isaacsen

Through the years, he worked at a variety of occupations.  Like so many community leaders from his era, his success and achievement was obtained through dedication and service to his employers.

Whenever asked, he dedicated himself to the requests of his community.  His church also played a major role in his daily life, consistently tithing his support.  

His dedication was well respected by his employers and his fellow citizens.  This desire to place others before himself, supported him well, and he retired to a comfortable lifestyle with excellent health and an energetic desire to enjoy and profit from his senior years.  

Following the death of his invalid wife (they had no children) whom he cared for many years , Ernest began courting Anne's mother.  A life void of children was suddenly filled with five adult children and their mates, six grandchildren, and eventually four great grandchildren.  He took it all in stride with a huge smile on his face and an ear bent toward their accomplishments and achievements.  

During my caregiving experiences with Ernest, I was allowed to witness on an intimate basis, his daily approach to life.  Ernest had always blessed our meals whenever he invited our family to his table.  It was always the same formal blessing; giving thanks for "...this food, the many blessings that have been bestowed upon us, and make us ever mindful of the needs of others".  On some occasions, when asked by the grandchildren, he would share that same blessing in Norwegian.  

During the times when Ernest and I were alone, I discovered that this blessing was not limited to just formal occasions.  Instead, it was presented each time he sat at his table whether it be for breakfast, dinner or his bed-time snack even when no one else (other than God) was joining him.   

The morning after his death, I entered my usual 5:00 AM shift, a trip to the bathroom and then rolling over on my other side for a return to sleep.  However, this morning was to be different.  

I suddenly found myself the recipient of a large wicker basket on wheels, similar to a shopping cart.  In it, I was instructed to place all of the things with which I had been blessed in order that I might give thanks.   

Then at 7:30, two and a half hours later, Ernest again returned to my presence adding a reminder "to be ever mindful of the needs of others".

As I shared the ease of his transition with a friend at church, she remarked about what a blessing he had received with his departure.  I was left recalling all those times he had given thanks for his blessings and considered the welfare of others.  Could that have had anything to do with the ease and grace of his death? 

Thank you, Ernest, for your stellar performance in the art of thanksgiving and sharing with others.  I only hope, that as I depart, I will have sown the seeds for giving and caring to as many others as you.