Let me tell you about.......The walking stick
Today is Wednesday, April 12th, 2023. Six years ago today was also Wednesday, April 12th, but 2017.
This day in 2017 was going so well with family visiting us in Colorado from California, and dad was in great spirits. Family wanted to visit Estes Park, a quaint tourist town in the mountains of Colorado. The weather was lovely as we drove through the Rocky Mountain National Park viewing wildlife and snapping pictures of each other and the scenery.
The walking stick, pictured here with dad, was one that I had bought for him to use as an aid in walking on unstable surfaces. He used it a lot for all surfaces as it assisted him with standing up straight and gave him something to lean on.
The walking stick became a permanent part of his active life. Little did I know it would be responsible for taking his life.
We were wrapping up our Estes Park outing, dad, me, grandson Ellis, brother Steve, niece Kari, her sons Kaleb and Lucas, with a stop to the visitor center for souvenirs and bathroom use. I took 21 month old Ellis into the ladies room outside for a diaper change, dad used the men's room outside, not sure what the others did while we were occupied.
We met up inside the visitor center to look at fun stuff as a memory for the day. I was holding Ellis so he would not run around and possibly hurt himself, dad was browsing in the gift shop. I found a few things to buy for Ellis, was at the cash register to pay and brother Steve asked me a question. I set Ellis down, asked dad to keep an eye on him just for a minute, and that was when my life changed forever.
Being only 21 months old and having spent an entire day in his car seat, naturally Ellis was ready to just run around; and he did. It was such a quick and horrible few seconds that I have replayed in my mind too many times over the past 6 years. One second I am speaking with my brother, in another second I am hearing my dad screaming like I have never heard before and never hope to ever hear again.
Ellis had sprinted toward some stairs, dad was quick to react to try and catch him, and was tripped by his walking stick in the process. He went down, hard, so hard, face first on the marble floor of the visitor center. So much was blood pouring out of his head. Although his action saved Ellis from falling down a flight of very hard stairs, it caused him irreparable damage.
Such a flurry of activity as I tried to assist dad, while Steve and Kari grabbed the three kids. The Park Rangers working inside the visitor center quickly sprung into action by calling 911 and coming over to assist me with comforting dad. Everything was so surreal and in slow motion; the ambulance could not arrive quick enough for my injured daddy.
I could see that his head was cracked open, his nose was definitely broken, and he complained that he was unable to move. One of his arms was off to his side and was more than likely broken at the shoulder. Steve and Kari did a great job of staying calm with the kids and hopefully kept them from seeing anything that would haunt them as it has me for all of these years.
The ambulance transported dad to the local medical center in Estes Park where they frantically worked on him to assess his injuries. I called my husband, Steve, to come join me and called my son, Jason, to come and pick up grandson Ellis as it had been a very long day for him.
Brother Steve and his daughter Kari stayed with me for a bit and were able to go in and see dad for brief visits between x-rays and blood draws.
The Estes Park Medical Center determined that dad's level of trauma was beyond what they were able to handle and told us that he would have to be transferred via ambulance down to the Medical Center of the Rockies in Loveland.
That was a long trip down from Estes Park to Loveland for me and husband Steve, and brother Steve and his family as we followed the ambulance to its destination.
It was hours of waiting for them to get dad settled and get his condition assessed before we could get in and see him. I was dad's medical durable power of attorney and needed to stay and make any decisions pertaining to his care; I knew I might some day be called upon for this task but was not prepared for it to come so soon.
Two broken shoulders, a cracked head, black eyes, and a broken nose were the extent of the injuries that they could determine. They got him settled for the evening and husband Steve and I went home to get ourselves some rest and make phone calls. Brother Steve and family said their goodbyes to dad earlier in the evening as they needed to get back to our house to prepare for their drive home from Colorado back to California the next day.
Thursday, April 13th, 2017, started early for me as I went to the hospital to consult with dad's physicians about his prognosis and recovery care. I declined surgery on his shoulders due to his age, and at his request, and the physicians concurred because of his age and his heart condition.
I had always promised dad that I would do everything in my power to keep him from going to a nursing home, but with two broken shoulders it was inevitable that I would be unable to care for him at our home. I made arrangements for him to transfer from the hospital to the nursing home that took such good care of mom for many years; they adored dad and he was good with that decision.
They said he was looking at possibly several months of care and the notion of him being there for that long tugged at my heart even though I knew it was best.
Son Jason, wife Mary, and grandson Ellis visited dad that afternoon and son Chris also came up to spend some time with him. We were all comforting each other and dad was making jokes as was his typical demeanor. I took photos of him, for posterity, so that he could one day see how he looked with his black eyes and broken nose.
It had been another long day for me and dad told me to go home and get some rest. I wanted to stay with him but relented to his wishes. I told him I loved him, he responded with "I love you more" (we always tried to outdo one another); I kissed him on the forehead, told him to behave and that I would see him in the morning.
Friday, April 14th, 2017, at around 4:30 a.m. I was startled awake by the ringing of my phone. It was a call from dad's physician letting me know that dad had just passed away moments before the phone call. He had a DNR (do not resuscitate) order in place and had gone into heart failure in the early hours of that morning; his injuries were just too much for his body to handle, sadly.
James Lee Rainer, my dad was such a good man. He was a devoted husband, father, grandfather, uncle, cousin, great-grandfather, and Patriot.
He taught me work ethics, family values, and always let me know he was proud of me. We had intellectual discussions, had arguments, and enjoyed watching baseball together. I spent from January of 2015 until the day he passed away as his caregiver, he lived in our home. Those days, for me, were priceless and I will forever be grateful for that time.
Missing you every day
Love you the most,
Patrisa
The ambulance transported dad to the local medical center in Estes Park where they frantically worked on him to assess his injuries. I called my husband, Steve, to come join me and called my son, Jason, to come and pick up grandson Ellis as it had been a very long day for him.
