Today was a holy day as Nate stepped out of this world and into the next. The members of our family (as well as Mary and several Hospice staff) had kept a vigil around Nate’s bed for three days, not leaving him alone for a minute. The nurses had helped us learn how to manage his pain with helpful drugs. Pancreatic cancer is one of the most painful cancers that exists. We learned to read Nate’s body language carefully, even while he was unconscious, watching for signs of discomfort and anguish. If he paddled his feet, pinched his shoulders together, furrowed his brow or shifted in his sleep we knew he was struggling and needed help.
Yesterday morning Nate hit a new low. He was in tremendous pain, which yanked the rest of us into it with him. A nurse guided us by phone on how to escalate the meds, finally arriving in person to help us. Nothing we did seemed to settle him. The combination of drugs had gotten complicated, and we were keeping a desktop record of what we gave him, when we did it and a schedule of next doses, but even with that it was becoming more and more difficult to keep everything straight. When the drugs weren’t “getting” his pain, we were devastated.
Hospice offered to send a nurse who would stay with us through the evening and overnight. Her main function would be to manage the complicated medicine, although she would also be there to help if he passed away on her watch. We gratefully agreed.
By 5:00 pm yesterday, Nate’s pain began to subside. The added pain patches wouldn’t kick in until morning, but the increased morphine worked its magic, and he began to settle. We learned later that the orange-sized tumor in his lung had ruptured during this time, causing tremendous pain he could not tell us about in words. Later that evening fresh blood would flow from his nose, and brown fluid would spill from his mouth. Both seemed mysterious at the time, but later the puzzle pieces fit together, when the rupture was identified. From that point on, he was breathing with one lung.
Nate could no longer talk to us with his voice but spoke volumes with small facial expressions we carefully looked for. All 11 of us squeezed around the bed in his tiny room to express love, each one taking a turn with their father/father-in-law. Tears flowed and great things were accomplished. Gratitude poured from the hearts and mouths of each person. I, too, spoke love and thanks to Nate. We repeated Scripture to him, sure of his hearing. Mary and I sang all three verses of his favorite hymn: Blessed Assurance.
Nurse Sonia arrived at 6:00 pm and made an assessment of his condition, concluding he probably wouldn’t live til midnight. We braced ourselves and spent every minute with him. His makeshift bedroom was filled: the hospital bed, the big oxygen-making machine, extra oxygen tanks, a desk covered with medical supplies and as many chairs and stools as could be wedged around the bed.
At about 10:00 pm it looked like he was slipping away. His breathing became more shallow, each one spaced far from the next. He was in a deep unconscious state but was, at long last, resting without any signs of pain or even discomfort. His hand was relaxed as I held it. I sat on the edge of the bed and put his warm hand on my knee, a gesture very familiar to the two of us. For a flash it was just like old times, before pancreatic cancer.
I began singing quietly again, and Mary joined in. Nate, a non-musical person (except for Elvis Presley songs), had often mentioned his favorite hymns: “Blessed Assurance”, “Fairest Lord Jesus” and “A Mighty Fortress”. We sang them all, and gradually each of the kids drifted back into the room, lit by a dim green lamp. Some of us were softly crying. We quoted Nate’s favorite Scripture passage, Hebrews 12:1-3, about running life’s race. I told him, nose to nose, that his race was almost over, and he was close to the finish line. He was worn out and would soon be able to rest. We told him how proud we were of him in his running and his strong perseverance.
Despite the click-click of an oxygen machine, the little room became a sanctuary of worship. We lovingly spoke to him, caressed him, loved him. I talked right into his ear and said, “The Bible tells us an angel will escort you to Jesus. Do you see the angel yet? Its time to stop running. Just walk into heaven. No more pain. No more work pressures. No more trouble. You can leave us any time now. You’re ready to go, and we are ready to let you go.”
These words were difficult to say, but God kept my voice strong despite tears plopping on his t-shirt. The kids moved forward and said more nourishing things to their dad. Many of them broke into spontaneous prayer. The Holy Spirit was hovering over our little group, working his wonders in every heart and mind.
Finally we were quiet, listening to Nate’s erratic breathing, focusing on his face, waiting for the end. Every so often the nurse would move through our ring of protection to take his blood pressure or listen to his heart. “Not long now,” she’d say, slipping quietly into the background again.
Minutes passed, then an hour. Nate’s breathing didn’t change. Sonia was replaced with Dee at 11:30 pm, and as she stepped into the room to make her own assessment of Nate, our kids began easing out of the room. They stoked the living room fire and settled into chairs, talking quietly, waiting, until they drifted into sleep. No one wanted to move too far away.
Mary and I settled into our sleeping chairs on either end of Nate’s bed for the third night of watching over him. Dee stayed close, too, and we grew to love her tender care of him through the night. Once I opened my bleary eyes and saw her reading my Bible in the dim green light, sitting in the corner on an 18” stool.
When morning came, Nate’s blood pressure was 63 over 38, unchanged from the evening before, but his heart had weakened significantly, beating irregularly and “far away” as Nurse Dee put it. We continued to wait. Dawn came. Coffee was made. The little ones began their chatter, and life moved forward one more step. Dee shook her head in amazement as she listened to Nate’s heart.
“I can barely hear it at all,” she said. “He’s keeping himself alive by sheer will power.”
“He has a special heart for those whose husband/father has abandoned them,” I told her, “and he’s trying not to abandon us.”
“Better release him again,” she said.
Nate has always been a list-maker, so I made an audio list for him, coming close to his face. “Your taxes are paid. You have provided for me with life insurance. You have put my name on your bank account. You have completed your cards for the kids. Your children and your two brothers-in-law are going to take care of me. Your clients all send their love. Your business is being cared for.”
I listed every specific detail I could think of and then said, “And now its time for you to leave these things behind and go. I’m going to say goodbye now, and I’ll see you later. You’re so blessed to be going to heaven now. You’ll actually get to meet and talk to Jesus! I’ll be right behind you, and when I get there, I know you’ll welcome me.”
I kept one hand on his chest which was moving up and down ever so slightly with an occasional deeper breath. But he chose not to “go”. By 6:00 pm, although he had no pulse, he was still breathing. In the rest of the house, life kept happening. Two people left to pick up Chinese food. Two more walked Jack. Someone else took the little ones to the playground. Animated conversations were in progress.
Mary and I based at Nate’s bedside, marveling at how he continued to cling to life. Dee had used the word “rare” in reference to him being a pancreatic cancer patient able to hang on so long. She also told us it was unusual for pancreatic cases to die without intense pain, yet Nate’s face was peaceful and smooth. Dee said, “As I studied him during the night, it looked like he was getting younger and younger.”
We told her of all the prayer that was going up to God on this specific issue, a peaceful passing. She nodded like a woman who knew all about it.
At 7:20 pm, Dee was long gone, and we were wondering if we should call for another night nurse to help us. Mary said, “Well, go get your plate of food. I’ll watch.” But I hadn’t been in the kitchen 20 seconds when she came running. “You better come. It’s happening,” she said,” and I dropped my plate and ran. The kids set their plates aside and followed.
Putting one hand on his chest and one on his face, I felt him take three more slow breaths as I spoke my goodbyes and I-love-you’s into his ear, and he died. Our beloved husband and dad had finished his race. And he was healed of pancreatic cancer.
Passing the box of tissue back and forth across the bed, we all wept freely. I continued to hold onto Nate, caressing the arm, hand and face of the person I loved so much. But he began to cool off immediately. His face and lips turned ashen beneath the yellowed skin of liver failure. Within minutes his body was stiff and cold. The real man had departed, and it was obvious to all of us.
We stayed in our little womb-room and talked of how Nate had not so much died as been born to eternal life. The kids surmised about what he was doing “right now.” Through tears we smiled. And we prayed together, trusting God’s Word to be true and claiming every promise about heaven.
Nelson quickly stepped into his father’s shoes, calling Hospice and then the funeral home. Within a few minutes a nurse arrived with her stethoscope, listening to Nate’s heart for the full legal 60 seconds before pronouncing him dead. But one look at his body could have made that pronouncement.
The funeral director and his assistant arrived and wrapped his body in the sheets from the bed and simply carried him out of the house. I told all the kids not to look as they walked by, but I had to see. One man held him at the shoulders, one at the hips. His legs stuck straight out as if he was still lying in the bed. How quickly our “shells” become useless baggage once the God of life and death removes the real us.
After they’d gone, I said, “Now. What would Papa want us to do next?”
Several of the kids answered in unison, “Eat our Chinese dinner.”
And so we did.
“We grow weary in our present bodies, and we long to put on our heavenly bodies like new clothing. Yes, we are fully confident, and we would rather be away from these earthly bodies, for then we will be at home with the Lord.” (2 Corinthians 5:2 & 8 )
“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.” (Psalm 116:15)
Thank you for sharing with us during this time of lost yes but yet victory of Jesus Christ. You have blessed us all with your writtings. Nate is a testimony to God’s love and promises. Heaven is a reality to Nate and now his living really begins. Someday, as God has designed for all who trust and believe, we too will witness what Nate is witnessing right now. You and your children have drawn on the strength of God’s promises which will never fail. Praise be to God.
Margaret, How precious of you to share so much of your heart with so many people. Your life is a testimony to God’s faithfulness. I am so sad for you that Nate is gone, but feel the bittersweet rejoicing you must be experiencing. My confident prayer is that God will continue to give you strength for the days ahead. You remain in my prayers often.
I am glad that i got to meet Nate and wish i knew him better on this side of heaven. I was reminded Psalm 90:1 today; ‘Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations’. What a comforting thought that God has been a refuge and dwelling place to the Nymans. Thank you for sharing this journey. My faith has been strengthened by your faith and faithfulness to Nate and your children.
‘Proverbs 31:28 Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her’. This scripture reminds me of you and your life as a wife and mother.
I am praying for you and your sweet family.
Margaret, Birgitta and family,
Truly, you carry God’s grace and Nate’s
passing, I know, was made so much easier by your love, prayer and support. What an amazing loving family who not only talks the talk but walks the way of the Lord as well. Please know that I will keep you in my prayers. My love to you all, Joann (aka Momma)
Dear Nymans,
You have been and will be in our prayers and thoughts in the days, weeks, and months to come. Thank you for all the great times at the old house and for many years of friendship.
Marnie, this blog has been an amazing testimony of you and your family’s strength and faith in God through this tough time. Thank you for sharing so often and openly!
Love,
John & Holly Schambach
Mr. Nyman is smiling down upon each and every one of you.
Love and prayer to all!
Nicole
Margaret and family –
I am weeping for you all, but am so glad that Nate’s battle is over. Bless you all as you remember all the good times you have had with your husband and Dad. May our Gentle Shepherd guide you in the upcoming days.
Amy sent me the link to your blog. I am so very sorry for your loss. Thank you for the gift of your story and I hope it has been a comfort to you to share it.
Margaret and family~
Because He lives, I can face tomorrow
Because He lives, all fear is gone
Because I know who holds the future
And life is worth the living, just
because He lives.
Nate taught us how to live, but most of all he taught us how to die. His courage and faith have inspired all of us and left a legacy that has impacted hundreds of us. We love you and rejoice that he has entered into his rest, and his works follow him.
“Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, from henceforth says the Spirit, for they rest from their labors and their works do follow them.” Rev. 14:13
Erwin and Rebecca
I met Nate a little over 10 years ago, when he represented me and my husband in a law suit against the people who reneged on our house deal, leaving us homeless with a baby on the way. It was an open-and-shut case in our favor, but the other side figured out a million ways to drag it out for years. In all that time, Nate never wavered in his commitment to our case or us. He was both patient and tenacious, and with that soothing voice of his, he could always convince me everything would work out okay. I will always be grateful for his kindness, support and concern. The world has lost a hero, but heaven has a new angel. God bless you and your family.
Margaret and children-
Our deepest sympathy to all of you, for the loss of a
wonderfull husband/father. We also feel the loss of a
very special friend of forty-plus years. Thanks to all of you for sharing your lives with us.
In Christ,
Don & kids
Now Nate is with my dad! Praying for all of you that God would give you needed comfort, and that the joy of knowing Christ will be your strength.
You’ve helped us in so many ways to “fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith…” Heb 12:2 Thank you so much for including us in this journey and seeing yours and Nate’s unwavering faith.
Hugs,
Clar Lyn and David Morris
I am friends of Nelson and Klaus. And their fathers love and compassion is in those boys. I could feel something special and different about them the first time I ever saw them. I am so sad for you all. I am praying for a quick healing within the family and I am thinking of you all
May the peace of God, which transcends all understanding be with each one of you. My prayers are with you and may the comfort of the Holy Spirit be with you.
Good bye, Nate and thank you for being such a steadfast light in our neighborhood and for filling our souls with your wonderful laugh and your reassuring wink…somehow, the world seems a little smaller without you. Love,Becky
Few men live such a devoted life to their Lord and to their family. Nate’s choice to live so faithfully will be used by Christ to do things for His kingdom that we can only imagine right now. We are thankful for his example to us, yet our hearts break for the human suffering that your family has experienced as you say goodbye to such a wonderful husband and father.
Dear Nyman Family,
My thoughts and prayers go out to you in this difficult time. Take comfort in knowing that Nate is now healed and walking on the streets of gold in heaven.
Thank you for sharing your journey through this illness on your blog.
May God continue to give you comfort and peace.
Nate is now “safe on Canaan’s side”. How beautifully and honestly you have written about this, Margaret. It has been such an inspiration. My sympathy to you and each of the family members. I pray for God’s continued grace and provision for all. Love & prayers.
Dear Margaret and all the Nyman family. John and I grieve with you at your loss, thankful that Nate suffering was eased at the end and He is now cancer and pain free singing praise to the Lamb. What a wonderful Hope we have and how well you all sent him off to his Lord.
My heart breaks for all of you. Loosing Nate must seem, at times, unbearable. Thanks be to God, the Father of Mercies, who healed Nate and promises you will one day be reunited. I pray that He will sustain you in the days, weeks and months ahead. Thank you for sharing your story. Your remarkable devotion to God and each other have surely encouraged others and glorified our Father in heaven. Love and prayers, Deborah
Dear Margaret and Family,
What a wonderful testimony of God’s faithfulness to us, even in death there is no sting! I cannot even begin to convey how many of us have been encouraged by your sharing in this journey, we have all witnesssed and felt God’s Presence through this all! Our prayers go with you all in the days, weeks , and months ahead! How well the Lord knows each of us. I am reminded of that passage in Psalm 139:13-18
For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother’s womb;I will give thanks to you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are your works And my soul knows it very well.My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth: Your eyes have seen my unformed substance, and in your book were all written the days that were ordained for me, When as yet there was not one of them.
What a great comfort that the Lord Himself has ordained and known each day we would experience here. He knew us before we were born, has been guiding us each and every day and been with us in every step as we die. What a great comfort to know He has and will always be with us!
Nate is home now, what a great comfort for each of us as we continue our journey here knowing that we too will be going home.
Love in Christ,
Virginia Leurs(Tom)
I continue to think about you and your family at all times of the day…and the words of this hymn (one of my favorites) keep going through my head:
My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine;
For Thee all the follies of sin I resign;
My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
I love Thee because Thou hast first loved me,
And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree;
I love Thee for wearing the thorns on Thy brow;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
I’ll love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death,
And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath;
And say when the death dew lies cold on my brow,
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
In mansions of glory and endless delight,
I’ll ever adore Thee in heaven so bright;
I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow,
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
Through you we have seen Nate pass from verses 1 and 2 to verse 3 and now we know he is living verse 4. What a journey! What a Savior!
Dear Loved Ones In Christ.
I am so over whelmed and Blessed to read -about your families- journey–Thank You- for writing –this–it will – touch–more people- then you can imagine..
I pray-that many, come to know the same Savior-I love–and that–Nate -is now with…..God Bless You All–Love & Prayers..Faith Wilson–Ocala Fl.
I learned about your family from your sweet niece Julia. She shared with us on Tuesday in our Bible study about what a special family that you have and what an incredible testimony you have given to all of those around you.
Thank you for this website. I am so blessed to have read your blog. I would like to encourage you to stay strong in the Lord.
Margaret,
I remember how I loved praying with you at Moms In Touch. The strength of your faith was evident in your prayers, just as it is in this blog. May the Lord continue to uphold you as He is your comfort and strength in the days ahead. You and your family are in my prayers.
Margaret,
Russ and I remember well those fun days of prep for our missions trip and Nate’s willingness to participate in all the crazy “Pastor Dave” activities! His love for the Lord, his absolute dedication to you and his family, were so obvious. Even though you all weren’t able to come with us on that trip to our brothers and sisters to Juarez, Nate is now on the best trip of all, surrounded by a cloud of witnesses far larger. Thank you for sharing this season of life and the amazing comfort it has brought so many of us who are still running the race down here. Love and prayers to you and your family,
Betsy and Russ