Jack Rupert
Jack taught us how to live, and he taught us how to leave.
A longtime member of Lake Writers, Jack left his last meeting with us saying he was facing heart surgery but for us not to worry at all, as he was fully prepared to go Home to his Lord if it was his time to go.
Always when Jack was at our meetings, we could depend on laughing a lot. He wrote about his memories of long-ago DC, and since I had also grown up there, we often shared those same memories from the 40's and 50's. We'd talk about the street cars, about Glen Echo, about freely traveling alone as young children to the museums and art galleries.
Once Jack and his wife Shirl retired to Smith Mountain Lake, he began writing about squirrels that he'd humanely trap and escort many miles away before letting them loose. His dry wit was evident in all his writing, and eventually he began to Blog, to the immense enjoyment of his family.
There were complications after Jack's heart surgery, and he spent seven months in the hospital, in rehab, and ultimately under Hospice care. His strong faith increased, and he asked wife Shirl to plan a big "Going Away" party for him so he could personally bid farewell to all his many friends. Despite the fact the weather did not cooperate that Sunday afternoon, his friends lined up all the way down the hallway to greet Jack, who was sitting in a wheelchair. The "reception" was replete with homemade cookies...Jack always said everyone deserved more than two cookies in life.
After his party, he told Shirl he was ready to go now, so he had the tubes removed and the machines shut down. He was 79 and had enjoyed a long and happy life. His final wish, according to his son Adam, was for his four daughters and their husbands, as well as his son, to become closer to one another. Adam said his father's wish had been granted during his lengthy hospital stay; that they had always been a close family but living miles away from each other had made it difficult to maintain that loving closeness. Adam said he was praying all the way as he drove up from Mississippi, that his father would have no pain, no discomfort. His last words, according to Adam, were: "I'm not in pain."
A longtime member of Lake Writers, Jack left his last meeting with us saying he was facing heart surgery but for us not to worry at all, as he was fully prepared to go Home to his Lord if it was his time to go.
Always when Jack was at our meetings, we could depend on laughing a lot. He wrote about his memories of long-ago DC, and since I had also grown up there, we often shared those same memories from the 40's and 50's. We'd talk about the street cars, about Glen Echo, about freely traveling alone as young children to the museums and art galleries.
Once Jack and his wife Shirl retired to Smith Mountain Lake, he began writing about squirrels that he'd humanely trap and escort many miles away before letting them loose. His dry wit was evident in all his writing, and eventually he began to Blog, to the immense enjoyment of his family.
There were complications after Jack's heart surgery, and he spent seven months in the hospital, in rehab, and ultimately under Hospice care. His strong faith increased, and he asked wife Shirl to plan a big "Going Away" party for him so he could personally bid farewell to all his many friends. Despite the fact the weather did not cooperate that Sunday afternoon, his friends lined up all the way down the hallway to greet Jack, who was sitting in a wheelchair. The "reception" was replete with homemade cookies...Jack always said everyone deserved more than two cookies in life.
After his party, he told Shirl he was ready to go now, so he had the tubes removed and the machines shut down. He was 79 and had enjoyed a long and happy life. His final wish, according to his son Adam, was for his four daughters and their husbands, as well as his son, to become closer to one another. Adam said his father's wish had been granted during his lengthy hospital stay; that they had always been a close family but living miles away from each other had made it difficult to maintain that loving closeness. Adam said he was praying all the way as he drove up from Mississippi, that his father would have no pain, no discomfort. His last words, according to Adam, were: "I'm not in pain."
Labels: Jack Rupert's party and funeral
posted by Marion | 4:03 PM
4 Comments:
Marion, what a fine and touching story of an obviously fine man and his long and happy life. How wonderful that Jack was able to leave this world at peace and without pain and in just the way he wanted to.
My condolences to his friends and family. I know he will be missed.
What a wonderful tribute to this great man. I wish I had met him.
Sometimes I think about whether or not I would want to know when I go, or not know. That was such a touching story. His friends meant so much to him that he waited until he had told them goodbye before "letting go." What an incredible testimony of his loyalty and his love. I'm sure you must feel honored to have known him.
I can never get over someone saying 'okay I'm ready now.' My brother Dan did too. Wish we could have thrown him a going away party.
I think I'll remember this story for a long time.
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