My Father

by Annette

Robert D. Gregory, "Bob" to everyone that knew him was a man full of love for his family, his friends and his fellow man. He became a man at 11 when his Dad died and assumed responsibility for his two sisters and brother while his Mom worked and kept a roof over their head. He worked hard all of his life, was married 54 years to my Mom, helped put two children through college and touched so many lives.

We noticed little things at first. He was trying to show my eldest nephew how to cut an angle for a school project and couldn't figure it out....we just laughed it off. He was a craftsman with his woodworking, self taught and took pride in his workmanship. He never complained about feeling bad. at the end, before he went to the hospital and we found out he had CJD he just couldn't get his words to say what he wanted, but he never complained.

We really noticed him going downhill after his son n law that he adored was killed in Desert Storm. He took no interest in the home I was building in Va., didn't even check on the building for me....that was so unlike him. I moved home to Virginia in August 1991 and it's like he was waiting to see I was OK. One day I saw his truck at the store behind their house and he was sitting in it...told me he couldn't remember how to get home. I told him to follow me and I drove him the one block to their house. He never drove again but wouldn't tell Mom why. He'd prepare his Sunday school lesson, he taught a men's class and forget in mid sentence what he was saying...the little things build up.

In mid November he had a kidney stone removed as an outpatient. My Mom and bother took him to the hospital and it was very late that night when they got home. Daddy couldn't tell the DR he wanted to come home with Mom. Finally, they let her talk to him and he nodded his head to her and he was released. My brother brought him back to the house while Mom had his prescriptions filled. I had soup waiting and he stared at it. I finally put crackers in it and he ate two bowls. That was the last decent meal he ate, mine and Mom's homemade soup. He went upstairs to their den and his legs just quick working. After several falls and my brother having to drive 25 miles to put him to bed, Mom called the Dr. He was taken by ambulance to the hospital and never came home again.

They ran all the tests and everything was negative until the EEG. The EEG gave us the answer, one we had never heard of, CJD. The doctor gave us what little info he had on the illness and got Daddy into hospice. he was there less than two weeks. Hourly, we saw his condition change. That Saturday he recognized his granddaughter and kissed her, by Sunday he didn't know who she was. He couldn't swallow, he couldn't talk, he couldn't see. he laid there in the bed wanting his hand held. If we took our hand away, he searched for us. Mom and I set by his bed and held his hand for hours.

The nurse told me on Nov. 26 someone had to give him permission to die. My Mother and older brother couldn't so I did. I talked Mom into getting her hair done the next day and I told Daddy she would be late
coming in on Wednesday and why. I promised him I would take care of Mom and told him Jesus was waiting and soon he and Bill would be together again.
The next morning, I got there early and started my watch. At 10:15am I noticed hemorrhages under his skin and called the nurse to the room. She told me this was it. I called my brother and our minister and then I held him and talked to him while he died. The next day was Thanksgiving and I told him he was going to be with Bill and to tell him I still missed and loved him. Daddy died peacefully in my arms and went home to God. Ten minutes after he died, I met my Mom at the door and told her he was gone.

We were blessed. He was in no pain and he touched so many lives that he keeps giving back to us. My Dad was a chaplain in the jail ministry and he touched so many lives. He was the most unselfish man I have ever know. He put everyone else first. We use to laugh and say his garden grew every year because God used it to feed so many people.

They wouldn't perform an autopsy. The family DR asked my brother and I if he could find out if there was a blood test for us to take to see if we stood to inherit CJD would we take it. We both said no. I have remarried and my husband knows if my brain goes, let me go. Daddy was not put on anything except an iv to keep him confortable, his death was easy. Coping with it for his family hasn't been. My brother cannot discuss it. When my niece finished college three years after Daddy's death I told her how proud Papa Bob would have been. We have found the strength to keep living but I hate the month of Nov and all it represents. On Nov. 27, Bob Gregory will be dead seven (7) years. His wife still weeps for him and she is 82 now. His daughter has remarried and his granddaughter married, we've brought new people into the family that never knew what a neat guy he was. He still gives to us with all he taught us. I want to give back and help others walking this long walk of CJD.

Annette Gregory Barrett Kibbe
daughter of Robert D. Gregory

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