The Long Winter

After a two month hiatus, mostly due to computer problems but partly due to a lack of desire to write, I am back. It has been eventful, to say the least.

I spent nearly two weeks of December back in St. Louis with my family. After 20 years, my dad passed away from cancer. I got home on a Wednesday, but by then he wasn't able to open his eyes or talk, which was very sad for me. My mom and sisters said he knew I was there, and I really am trusting that that's true. I was able to be with him, as were all of my siblings, until he died Saturday afternoon, December 11.

My siblings and I are spread out over a 25 year span, and by the time Caroline was born, Jim and Suzy were married and I was starting my second year of college. I realized that Saturday that for the very first time ever, my mom and dad were alone with their five kids. No spouses, no grandchildren, just five kids and their parents. It happened on Friday and again on Saturday, and then he was gone and it was the five of us with Mom. To me, that was a huge gift, and one which was so many years overdue.

The funeral was a sight to behold. Though I've traditionally identified myself with the German side of the family (Mom's), Dad wanted to celebrate his Scots-Irish side. We were decked out in our Campbell family tartan--scarves, ribbons, and ties were in abundance. The three older girls got silver claddagh rings to match Caroline's, and we wear them on our right hands. We all wore tall black boots, because Dad always said that every girl needs a good-looking pair of boots. There was a bagpiper who played "The Campbells Are Coming" as we left the church, and "Scotland the Brave" and "Amazing Grace" to walk us to the cemetery. Army personnel came up from Fort Leonardwood to give Dad military honors. He had an 18 gun salute, taps, and Mom was presented with the flag from his casket. Lots of music in the ceremony, glowing eulogies, the extended family, four of the grandkids, a nice lunch afterwards--all very nice. Suzy's son Robert was decked out in his Marines uniform and I'm sure Dad was very proud of that.

I miss him.

He had a bad turn back in July, and since then I had gotten a bit used to calling home and usually just talking to Mom because Dad was asleep. But when I did get to talk to him, he always sounded just like Dad, funny, completely up on current events, opinionated, concerned about me and the kids. I miss talking to him so much. I moved away from home so very many years ago, that seeing him in person was a rare luxury. Most of our relationship, arguably the best part of it, took place on the phone. Not a day goes by that I don't wish I could call him up and talk to him.

A number of my mythological suspicions about death were debunked during this experience.

1. The dogs did not howl when he died. They ran out and barked at a blowing leaf, but were oblivious to the rest.
2. There was no "deathbed miracle" when Dad opened his eyes, remarked on the beautiful angels coming for him, told us he loved us all, and fell back on the pillow with a smile on his face.
3. Just because you have suffered (and I mean truly suffered) for 20 years with cancer, does not mean that God will grant you an easy death. It was long (11 days), painful, and excruciating for him and for us to watch. And I was only there for the last four days.
4. There were moments of great happiness mixed in with the sorrow. I will always remember sitting on Mom and Dad's bed and seeing all of us girls wearing bright socks that Mom knit for us all. Little moments, but very happy ones.

I was truly overwhelmed by the kindness shown to me and my family throughout this whole experience. The day after I got there, darling Dave and his wife sent over two pies from a bakery in town, even though I haven't seen him in probably 25 years. Brent and Tricia sent flowers, which ended up right in front of me during the service and provided a focal point for me so I didn't fall apart and embarrass my dad, should he happen to be watching. Two of Mom's friends showed up on separate days and brought us amazing breakfasts. Jon and Holly run a gumbo shop and drove nearly an hour in freezing weather to bring us enough jambalaya and gumbo to feed an army. Cindy, who is exhausted from undergoing chemo, drove all the way out with her family to the visitation. So many, many kindnesses from so many people--thank you so much to all of you.

Peter Campbell Hixson

Hixson, Peter Campbell died December 11, 2010, at his home in Washington, MO, following a long battle with cancer. He was 74 years old. He was born October 18, 1936, in Saint Louis, MO, the son of Patricia Helen Larkin and James Campbell Hixson, and was raised in Webster Groves, MO. He was a graduate of Webster Groves High School, Washington University, and University of Missouri at Kansas City. He was a retired Army Officer, and Viet Nam veteran. Following his military career, Colonel Hixson enjoyed a second career as a banker, working at a number of Saint Louis area lending institutions. He lived in Franklin County for many years, first on a farm near Leslie, then in a home outside of Washington. He was an active member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday Saints, serving in many callings. He is survived by his wife of 54 years, Anne Seeman Hixson, by five children, James Thomas Hixson (Lori Stephenson), Suzanne Hixson, Diane Anderson (Travis), Emily Hixson, Caroline Hixson, as well as a greatly loved daughter-in-law, Margaret Rashford Hixson, by twelve grandchildren, and by his sister Nancy Hixson Yancey. Services: Visitation from 5pm to 7pm, on December 16, at OLTMANN FUNERAL HOME, 508 E. 14th St. in Washington, MO. Funeral service at 1pm on December 17 at the LDS Church (110 East 14th Street, Washington, MO), with burial in Saint Francis Borgia Cemetery, adjacent to the chapel. In lieu of flowers, memorials may be made to the U.S.O. or the charity of your choice.