More Journal Entries by Dad

All of these scans are various things I've taken from his journals. There were 3 different journals he wrote in while he was sick, so there is a lot more where this came from.









(3)Who would've thought that this would be so meaningful to us as we start to lose a whole strand of people in our family, after him. Especially near the end of this passage.
(4)The line at the end of this one, is one that he taught us as kids, so we'd be 3 and 4 years old, fumbling through this rule, as we recited it.









This was a long running joke that did in fact come true. Mom had always liked leather, but Dad couldn't stand his skin sitting up against it. So while he was around, he made it so we never owned any leather. So he wrote in his journal, basically giving mom "the green light" to go ahead and get her leather furniture. ...... and she did. :)

The Finishing Touch

At the viewing, I remember sitting, hidden, in the corner of a room, up the stairs away from all the public that was looking onto my Dad's body. Not only do I have a serious phobia of dead bodies, but I needed to be alone, away from everyone. I didn't want to be talked to, or starred at. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts and emotions, free to cry as hard as I wanted, free to stare at nothing and not be interrupted. It took a little bit for someone to find me, and I don't even remember who did, but whoever it was, did not understand why I was away, and made me come down to socialize, because "there was people that wanted to see me."

The funeral was just as I imagined it would be, back when we first heard the results of his gall bladder surgery, that there was a tumor. We, as a family, walked down the aisle, with Dad's coffin, closed, right there in front of us. Sad eyes all on us, with my hair pasted to my face from all my tears. The color black, in respect to the grieved. I hate the smell of Easter Lilies. Always have, always will.

I remember the burial ceremony the most. I sat there, in my soft fabric chair staring into the flowers on top of the coffin, that held the man that I will not see ever again here on earth. My high school band instructor, Mrs. Meunier, bless her heart.... she got together, at the last minute, students, my peers, that wanted to volunteer to play a song for this ceremony, because Dad loved the band that much. It was a good sized group, and my brothers and I felt loved because of it. As I sat there, breathing in the air, as the wind dried the tears from my face, listening to the soft sound of the band playing the song, "It Is Well With My Soul". Perfect.... Dad loved this song. It is an unforgettable tune that will stay with me forever.

Afterwards, I spent some time with my friends, back at the church for "food and fellowship". There is only one person that sticks out in my mind, that I saw there. Having played in the band, my Joshua..... well he wasn't mine then, but he was. I was still with my boyfriend, but my heart truly belonged to Joshua. The first time I saw him, 2 years before this, I fell in love. I was a little surprised to see him, since we hadn't talked much at all before this point, but his presence there made it more meaningful to me than he will ever understand. I remember getting a little hug from him, that made me melt. Of course, all of that, made my boyfriend a little jealous, but I didn't care. In fact, I became ruthless with that boyfriend, due to the way he had treated me all these horrible months. I dumped him a week after Dad died. I'm sure that was hard on him, due to him knowing my Dad from being with me, but I did "have a good head on my shoulders" and knew he was not "the one".

From that moment I mainly saw Josh at school in Woods class and band, later joined the Free Delivery crew. I actually did have another boyfriend before I finally landed Joshua... .. Bub.
I met Bub through my brothers, and he had joined Free Delivery. Bub treated me like a princess, respected me for my ways, and understood fully what it was like to lose a parent. It was nice having someone to talk to, that could appreciate everything you said. He was a lot younger when his mom died, he was 7, but he knew the grief and struggle of living without them. After Bub and I broke things off, he stayed with Free Delivery, and we stay good friends. To this day, he has a special place in my heart for being such a support for me in my grief with Dad, and treating me like the princess I deserved to be still, even though I didn't always feel like one. I'm told, he's off sky diving, these days:)

Going back to my family.... I remember mom, consistently falling to the ground, with her face planted in the floor of the house, crying out, "why!!!" as she desperately tried to learn things or do things that she had never had to do before. She threw herself into Free Delivery, making it everything that it possibly could be, she really did a good job with managing. The band had a good run for 3 years, before we all decided to call it quits and go our separate ways.

Here's a scan of the letter that Dad wrote to me in his bible that he gave me before he died. I treasure it always.

I understood it then, but I understand it even more now.

I'll Never Forget The Air

The reclining chair that I feel asleep in was so uncomfortable, I awoke trying to reposition myself so I could get back to sleep. Because of the unfamiliarity of the place, I was having a hard time getting back to sleep. I had forgotten where I was, and fear was creeping in at the thought of "this is where people die" I laid there for about 5 minutes, watching all my siblings sleep, listening to the clock's tick.

All of the sudden, the night nurse came into the living room, and went straight to the eldest of us,.... Angie. I watched her every move, trying to wake Angie up. I sat straight up, and asked, " What's wrong?" She replied, "It's time for you to go in there."
By that time, Angie had woken up, for the nurse to repeat herself in instructing her to wake everyone up, to go to the room.
I raced out of the living room, through an entrance way, and down the hall, leaving my sister behind me to wake everyone else up. My pace got slower as I approached the doorway. I noticed it was quiet, but I figured Dad's breathing got way slower, and that he was, in fact, going to die soon.

I entered the room to find Mom knelt on her knees beside the bed, with her head on Dad's shoulder. She was crying, silently.
My eyes met Dad's hand, that was not being held. I wanted him to know I was there. I went to hold his hand, gently, but quickly.
What I felt.......... I'll never forget. ...
His hand was ice cold-

I ripped my hand away, in a freight, not expecting him to feel that way. I was not stupid, I knew what that meant. He was gone........

I stood back, in shock with tears welling up in my eyes. My brothers and sisters made it to the room, hearing my mom crying a little louder now. It was like dominoes, as everyone came in, one by one, they fell in tears, realizing... he was gone...

I came to the other side of him, and sat down. My brother Noah was on the same side, crying. I'm not sure I had ever really seen either of my brother's tears like this. We all grabbed at each other, clinging to each other as we sobbed the greatest cry we had ever experienced. I grabbed Noah from behind, he hugged me back, and we cried together. I remember catching Angie's eyes, we both looked at each other being able to read the grief on eachother's faces.

After a while, there were various people coming in and out. Mom told us what happened. She said that the nurse was "doing rounds" and when she checked on Dad, he looked good and the same, comfortable. After she had checked on others, she came down his hall going back to her main station, she noticed the silence. It hadn't been but 10 or 15 min. since she saw him last. She evaluated him, seeing that he had indeed, died. She woke sleeping Mom up, to break the heart- crushing news of her husband. That's when she came into the living room, to wake Angie to get all of us.

I had realized then, that I must have woken up very close to the time of his death, not being able to get back to sleep. I remembered my feelings of wanting to be there when he died, but at the last minute, not wanting to witness it. But I also, didn't want to miss it either. It was complicated, but it all worked out in the way it was supposed to be.
I believe he wanted just Mom with him, but with her at a peaceful hour as well, for she WAS asleep. He wanted all of us kids near, but not to witness that last breath. And I got a little piece that I wanted,...... to not miss it... for I DID wake up, ... on my own... almost to the minute.

After crying for, what seemed like forever, my Uncle John Madison offered to take... us... home. That was an odd concept for me to be faced with. That it was over, and time to go home. All 5 of us kids packed into his car, with the top down:) I remember sitting in the back, in the middle, before we took off... feeling the air. It was moist, and slightly foggy. When you breathed it in, it felt like medicine for your lungs. My eyes and face hurt so bad from crying, but the coolness of that air soothed my face, like an angel was caressing my face with a cool heavenly cloth. It was healing, both my face and my heart, and started to soothe my soul.

We started driving off. In that car ride, there was a combination of crying, silence, and laughter. On the interstate, it was so foggy, and we saw, in the sky a ring of lights. It curiously frightened all of us as we were all gazing at this site. I think we looked at it for a good 2 whole minutes before we found out that it was a fancy street light. That got us chuckling at each other for awhile. And it started, ...... "if only Dad could've seen that one."

We arrived at our house..... the sun was just starting to rise, making it easier to see through the fog. I was looking at the house, thinking, "this is it..... this is what it feels like to be fatherless, coming home without him"

I breathed again.... that medicine air.... I'll never forget the air.

The Six Knots

Soon we were following an ambulance down the interstate, that was holding the man I already missed. I think we all got to the point that we quit begging God for his life, but for his peace.... to go home, .... to stop this suffering. We were all so worn from this experience. Mom hadn't slept barely at all. She would be up, day and night cleaning after him, waiting on him like the most devoted wife I've ever seen. It was beautiful, but heartbreaking. It was September 1st.

When we arrived at the Kavanagh House, Dad was wheeled in on his bed, saying, "Can we do that again?" We all settle him in his simple room. I noticed there were tons of tissue boxes everywhere in the whole building. The nurses showed us the kitchen, the living room with of course, the puzzles:), and then brought us back to Dad's room, where he laid, looking the same as what he looked like in the hospital. My sisters left to be with their husbands and kids for a little bit. The head doctor wanted to talk to us all in a different room, away from Dad, so we all gave him hugs and walked out the door into the living room. A nurse sat with him as we were away.

We all sat in the living room with this very nice doctor lady and she explained to us what was about to happen. She said that they would stop his IV because that would just keep his body trying to work. She talked about pain medication, that they would be able to give him as much as he needed in order to feel no pain. She warned us of "the last burst of energy" that happens before they die, she gave us some examples. We wondered what Dad would do for that. She said that there is this burst of energy that makes them do things that they wouldn't be able to do in their condition, and shortly after that, they pass.
By the end of our meeting, it was about 6pm, a nurse came in and calmly said, "you guys need to come and see this."
Mom rushed down the hall, in a frantic, we followed including the doctor. We all shuffled in the room in silence, looking down on the oddest site of my father. We gazed at him and the nurse started to explain what happened. She said that they had started the pain med. for him, and he was resting, but he, all of the sudden, became agitated, it seemed. He sat up, tying the single sheet that was on him into knots.

She asked him, " Joe? What are you doing?"
He replied, "How many are there?"
She counted. "Six",
he said, "ok, I'm done. I'm making their life lines." He laid down pulling the sheet over him, exposing his legs and arms, but covering the main part of his body. The nurse, because he was sweating and seemed to be hot, pulled the sheet off of his chest and belly, to give him some air, but he grabbed at it again and pulled it back up to where it was. She left it...and he instantly fell asleep into a coma and that's when she came to get us.

This site was holy. You could tell because we stood in awe, with frozen tears. He was in a different place, and the crinkles on his forehead were gone. With the sheet laying on him, like it was, he looked like Jesus. He did, indeed, have six knots in his bed sheet. Two at his right shoulder, one at his left. One at his right hip, two at his left. We knew that each one was for each of us, his wife and five kids. It took Mom a few more minutes to find this, but she found that the knots were put in the exact shape of her mothers ring, she loves so much. He was famous for doing things like that in the past. So she knew, that is what he meant to do, when he kept pulling that sheet on him, in that manner. I soon went out of the room, crying my eyes out. I knew this was that burst of energy. I knew that it was not going to be long at all. I headed straight for the House phone and called my sisters, telling them that they needed to come back. I told them what Dad did, and that he going to go soon. They both made it back within the hour, so they saw for themselves.

I wrote a song that night, called, "Six Knots of Love" for Free Delivery to someday perform. It was telling this story of this night. My Uncle John Madison brought his guitar, so we put the words to music, and Noah was there to learn the chords. Before we knew it, it was late, and time for bed.

Dad was still in his coma, breathing slowly, but loudly. You could hear it down the hall. Mom was there not leaving his side. All five kids camped out in the living room. For some reason, I couldn't be in there tonight. The eeriness of Dad's coma, frightened me to the point of not wanting to sleep in there. I realized I really didn't want to be there, when he died. My mom convinced Seth to sleep in there with her. He kept saying he wanted to be out there with all of us, but she held onto him. The light was on, she sighed that tired sigh, and said, "Seth? Can you turn the light off, I forgot?" He huffed as he looked at that light, but it slowly dimmed on it's own. Mom said, "That was weird.... maybe it burnt out or something." That made Seth very nervous. Then the nurse came in and flipped on the light to check on Dad. Seth bolted out, "Sorry mom, I'm sleeping out there." She understood and let him go. The nurse said he looked comfortable, checking to see if Mom agreed, she checked his vitals and left the room.

We all got as comfortable as we could and went to sleep.
and for the first time... Mom fell asleep.... . sound asleep.....

Watching Him Breathe

I have no pictures for you, for this moment. It is all in my memory..... those 2 weeks ..... those last 2 weeks in the hospital. School was in session, but I couldn't bring myself to be there. I didn't want to leave him. I wanted to be here... where he was..... soaking in every last minute I had with him.
There was a cot I slept on, and just outside of his room was a nice secluded waiting area with tables full of huge puzzles. (of course:) I remember my brothers and I putting together so many puzzles. That's how the time went by, as various family visited... coming to see Dad.
Dad did not look good. He was as pale and frail as anything I've ever seen. He had rings under his eyes. He had a lazy eye that came out whenever he was tired, but now, it was permanently half down his eye. He had so many tubes coming out of his body, but somehow managed to move, just a little. He had a tube coming out his nose that when to his stomach. He was not allowed to eat anything, but the nurses let him suck on life savers. We would watch the fluids coming out of his nose change colors to whatever he was sucking on. That was pretty neat, I guess.
The surgeon told us that he was full of tumors at this point, the oncologists said we could start another round of chemo, but it would only give him a little more time. That round was the round that he was warned against, by his late friend, who had passed away from the same thing. Dad looked at Mom, Mom looked at Dad. They knew that this was the end. That the fight was over, and that now all that mattered was keeping Dad comfortable so he could die peacefully. They called Hospice and requested a room for him at a Kavanagh House.
While still at the hospital, we waited...... we all sat talking, laughing, crying, whatever we felt. My Uncle Ed came by with a small slab of wet cement. We had Dad imprint his hand on there, so then when we got the new driveway put in, we could put his hand print in there somewhere.
Dad would sneak a sip of Diet Pepsi, (his favorite) just so he could once again, and maybe for the last time, taste something nice in his mouth. His health didn't matter so much anymore, just his pain. I remember his forehead was permanently crinkled because of his pain, but he was too weak to complain too much. The hospital could only do so much pain meds with him.

Have you ever watched someone breathe? Except your baby, have you ever watched someone breathe? Waiting to witness their chest never to rise again? I remember sitting their, right by his side, my eyes glued to his chest as he slept, going up..... going down..... ever so slowly... . then he would open his eyes enough to catch me staring at him, and he'd crack a smile. I remember in one of those last moments asking him, "Dad,..... who do want me to marry?" At the time, I had a boyfriend. He didn't treat me very well, didn't respect me, but I held onto him because I didn't want to be alone. I put up with him, cause I couldn't discern any better because I was so consumed in Dad. I asked Dad if he wanted me to marry that boy, and he answered....
"Kailan, " he put his hand on mine... " You have a good head on your shoulders... I trust that you"ll find the right person. I trust you..." I laid my head on his shoulder with tears in my eyes, as I held the freedom that he just gave me, clinging to his opinion of trusting me. My dad trusted me, that was a big deal in a lot of ways.

It was a day or two later, that the ambulance was ready to take him to that House. The House that he was to die in, the House that he (and we all) would finally have peace in..... well that is what we all hoped.

It was it, there was no looking back. We saw the final flame, but we somehow managed to keep walking forward, straight into it. We could feel the heat from it, but we picked up our shields of faith, and put on our war faces.

Last Full Ruppert Family Pictures

This picture was taken about 3 weeks before he died. The whole family was there taking pictures. We got our last full family pictures that day. And then each one of us with him alone. Even my best friend Megan made it in town from California this day, to share in these pictures. When we were 13, her dad could no longer take care of her due to an illness he had, she lived with us for a little while, we almost adopted her. Then the mom she barely knew demanded she come to live with her, we could not deny her that right, so off she went, coming back to visit as often as she was able.
For as long as I can remember Mom and Dad were taking in somebody. Whether it be friends of ours that needed a safe place to live, or foster care. They had made such an impact on so many lives, and taught us kids that you never turn away someone in need. Today, I am very sensitive to that about people and I owe that to the example both of my parents set before us.

The question "Do you need to grow old to complete your service to our King?" was answered in these short 6 months. Certainly not....... so be ready for anything. Be willing to embrace any and every situation to help and serve others. From opening a door for someone or helping them find a specific book in the store..... to taking someone into your home when in need and being that mentor for life.

There were lots of tears this day, thoughts went through our heads of "this is it". How did we know it? When you're in it as deep as we were, there comes a point when you just know, that there's not much time left. I remember my oldest sister Angie was 3-4 months pregnant with her second child. That was hard for all of us to accept, the fact that Dad won't be here for all the other grandchildren to come. A huge feeling of jealousy would overcome me at times because not only would I not have him here for my babies, but my future husband will never have the pleasure of meeting this man in my life. My Daddy would not be there to sift through my boyfriends and give consent for marriage. Little did I know that he had already met my future husband, in fact my husband's whole family had been introduced to him almost 2 years before this moment.

We knew what was about to happen, but didn't know how we were going to get through it. But what mattered more than all those things, is that we knew why we were going to get through it. Because God gave us this job to do. .... to make it through this in order that people see Jesus when they look at us. We knew that God would give us strength, but we didn't how He'd make us stand. We knew He would give us courage in the face of death, but didn't know how we'd be able to even breathe. We knew somehow He'd comfort us, even when our tears seemed endless.

So I say again, whether or not we knew what was about to happen, we didn't know how we would get through it, but held on to why we were going to go through this fire. Because HE wanted us to, and that's all that matters in the end.