There is not much I remember from my beloved pastime of reading. I treasure books, my long term comprehension lacks. There is one section in one book I never forget…
The next morning we came up and stood around his bed. The nurse told us Dad had spent the night raising his hands and pawing at the air as though he was trying to keep something away.
Dad lay there with his eyes closed. Occasionally, he spoke. He wasn’t talking to any of us, though, he was somewhere else. At one point I heard him say clearly, “Dad, you’ll have to wait. I’ll be with you in a minute. Oh, Mom, it’s so pretty here.”
Dad was so very, very weak, and still he struggled to live. It was awful to watch him, and we knew it had to end. It was time for us to say good-bye. One by one, we knelt next to his bed to say our farewells. I was one of the last.
I told him I could never say good-bye to him, and that he should not fight any longer. It was time to move on. Then I said. “Dad, it’s time for you to go. Your ship is ready to set sail to the other side where loved ones are waiting for you.”
“Yes,” he said, “I’ve got to go.”
Then Michael, Jr. said, “Dad, this enough. It’s time to move on.”
His eyes still closed, he said softly, “You’re right. It is time.” Then he smiled and said, “I love you all.”
Michael Landon died on the first of July, the very day on which his mother had been born.
I Promised My Dad
By Cheryl Landon Wilson, stepdaughter of Michael Landon