Only Love - The Oopsie Doodle Story

Why ‘Only Love’?

So as most of you know, my father passed away from a rare disease called HLH. It came on suddenly, and we sat with him at the University of Michigan hospital during his last 5 weeks of life.

As heartbreaking as it was, it was a beautiful experience spending time with him and talking about everything under the sun. Just a few weeks before he passed away, we had a scare at the hospital. He was rushed to the ICU, with the unknowns placed before our family. We waited patiently, with fear in our hearts and prayers in our minds. Honestly, we didn't think he was going to make it through the day.

But he did...

He came back to us and talked for three days nonstop in beautiful riddles and poems. The words were so eloquent that he had not only his own family in awe, but those caring for him in the hospital. People would stop at his room, just to sit with him and hear his stories.

Something strange began happening around that time. He started making predictions and recalling memories that he could not have known. Like a "chicken bus" that his grand-daughter traveled on in Asia, or small nuances that family members and friends held in their own secret memories. He knew and he voiced stories as if he were there in the moments with them. Memories and future became something of the present, and again, even strangers began noticing and were choosing to spend time with him.

During this time, we had a male nurse that my dad was very fond of. This nurse felt like family. Dad went on about this nurse. He really had a connection with him. With all of his banter, I listened, as I felt necessary but didn't give it much thought. Surely, these "predictions" must be the result of an end of life experience and I needed to just focus on spending time with him. One day, he looked me in the eye and asked, "You think I’m crazy don’t you?" I told my dad that, "I thought so the first two days when he didn’t stop talking." But what changed my mind was when he looked at our male nurse and said “You don’t think I’m crazy do you?" He replied “No, I don’t George.” They made eye contact and shared a slight smile. Then my dad said, “I know you don’t because you’re a pastor.”

The nurse stopped, turned toward my dad and shrugged. "George, you know that’s not true.” At this point my heart sank a little. I knew my dad wasn't predicting anything and this was inevitably cognitive decline. Just then, the nurse said, "George, you know I am a deacon.” My dad did his cute little crooked smile and just nodded his head.

In these final days, he would speak of all the beautiful colors, and people, oftentimes dancing and happy. And the colors, oh how he spoke of colors. This single resolution made him cry out of pure joy. He shared with us that the reason he was able to live in these moments, to experience these truths, was that he visited heaven. There, Jesus was holding his hand, and dad saw things that awaited him. He knew where he was going. But before he traveled beyond, he needed to carry out tasks that he was instructed to do.

In addition to speaking of colors, so vibrant and true, he also spoke of people. All types of people; all colors, races, ethnicity, all over the world, joined together in happiness. One detail that he constantly initiated, was making everyone join hands with him. He would say, "See, my hands are yellow, yours white, yours black. My yellowed hands are from my disease that will eventually take me Home." As he held our hands, he would share what his journey was going to be like, and what we would see when we took it ourselves. But the one thing that would bring him to tears, is when he spoke of having these colors all together. And how all of these colors, these people, these memories, these experiences, these journeys, were done in "Only Love". That love will conquer all. Only Love will bring us together.

I sat by my dad's bedside every day and every night during these final moments. I talked to him about how hard it is to live with a chronic health condition and I begged him to send me healing when he got Home. I have such a beautiful life, and I want to enjoy it. My dad said he would. We also talked a lot about my loss of identity in losing the ability to work and have a purpose. We talked so much about my life, and what he hoped for me in the future. He said he would not have to worry about me because I have Mike. My father adored my husband.

We also spoke of my love for animals, and how dad and I shared this love. I talked about my love of dogs specifically; how I love to help rescue dogs, help owners train their own dogs, and create beautiful lives for my own pets. We spoke of my dream to breed dogs and my want to give back to my community. Throughout these conversations, the topic always came back to how I really wanted to breed. Dad told me, “That’s always been you." He told me that I should follow my dreams, but do it with "Only Love". Although I cherished his advice, I was too afraid to follow my dream because of my health issues.

The day that I lost my father, was the day that I entered a world that I never could have imagined. The grief overtook my body and my life; I missed him so much. During this time, I also grieved the life I always wanted and felt limited by my health. I wanted to help others, give back to my community, share my knowledge and my love. I remember getting really quiet in those days, trying to figure out what I was going to do. I think most of the noise I made during that time was just babble, and sounds of tears.

In the back of my head I kept hearing my father tell me that I needed to go forward, keep doing what I wanted to do and practice "Only Love". I reached out to my husband and my doctor and got the most loving responses from both. I decided I either needed to get up or give up.

I wanted to make my dad proud, let his legacy live on, because he ‘got me’. He understood my passion for dogs, my passion for life and giving back. And I wanted to do it all in "Only Love". So I started making a plan, hoping my healing would come soon because my body surely couldn’t handle my dream. I was so afraid of failure.

I remember walking to the end of my driveway one day where I ran into my father-in-law. It was a particularly rough day, where the tears would not stop. The tears started again looking at him, thankful that he is in our life. He’s always been so good to me.

My father-in-law took on a soft tone, offered me assistance in pushing forward and encouraging words. Overwhelming gratitude filled my heart and I will never forget what he said to me at the end of that conversation; "That's what dads do". I smiled, knowing he was right.

It was that day that I decided giving up was not an option.

I started talking about my plans, and putting in to place support around me to ensure success. Taking steps, little by little to build my dream. My husband was my biggest supporter; helping me scheme and plan and dream. Together we dreamed up business names, scenarios, and had fun while doing it. After a family vote, we decided to name our labor of love, 'Oopsie Doodles' because it fit us and our comical, goofy, and fun relationship.

Slowly laughter returned. And soon after puppies started to arrive. I had so much help and I’ve been so grateful to see the business change, evolve and resemble the love that I have for the animals, my family and especially my dad.

Dad with his goats; his love of animals had no limits!