A Daughter’s Tribute to Her Father and the Gift of Hospice Care
Taylor with her father, Gary, who received hospice care at INTEGRIS Health
When Taylor talks about her dad, Gary, her voice becomes both tender and bright, as if she’s reliving a thousand small memories all at once. He was a lifelong mechanic, a NASCAR-loving, snack-stocking, joke-making Oklahoma loyalist who never missed a day of work until cancer forced him to stop. He was the man everyone called when a car made a strange noise, the neighbor who fixed your brakes and only charged for parts, the dad who said “Welcome back to God's country” every time someone crossed the Oklahoma state line.
He worked with his hands, loved big with his heart, and rarely asked for anything in return. And when the end of his life came faster than anyone expected, his family had only one hope left: that he would be able to leave this world with dignity, peace, and love—just as he had lived.
That hope brought them to INTEGRIS Health Hospice House.
A Life of Quiet Service
Gary was the kind of dad who showed love by showing up. He worked at the same body shop from age 18 until it closed decades later. He was the “snack guy” at work, kept the fridge full for his coworkers, and somehow convinced everyone that a coworker’s newborn baby had his middle name—just because he thought it was funny.
He loved baseball, fixing cars, and watching How It’s Made. He was happiest in Oklahoma, surrounded by family, familiar roads, and the people who relied on him.
So when lung cancer came—20 years after he’d quit smoking—his family did what he always did for them: they showed up. For chemo. For pneumonia scares. For late-night ER trips. For physical therapy that gave them “false hope.” For the moment a doctor quietly mentioned hospice.
The shift from fighting to accepting was fast. “Three days earlier, we were talking about his hip surgery,” Taylor shared. “Then suddenly the conversation changed to, ‘We need to discuss hospice.’”
Choosing Hospice: Love, Not Surrender
When the doctor recommended hospice care, Taylor, her siblings, and extended family were overwhelmed. But one place stood out immediately: INTEGRIS Health Hospice House.
“The way they talked about it, we just knew,” she said. “If it had to be anywhere, I’m glad it was there.”
On the day he arrived, the staff spoke gently, moved quickly, and treated every detail as sacred—not clinical. They bathed him, made sure he was comfortable, even shaved his face, knowing he always preferred it clean. No one had to do that. But they did.
And from that moment, Gary wasn’t a “case” or “patient.” He was a man with a favorite donut, a family full of storytellers, and a 70th birthday they were determined to help him reach.
They made it. He turned 70 surrounded by laughter, chocolate icing, and the voices of people who loved him. The room wasn’t quiet. It was full of life.
“Did You Go To Heaven, My Friend?”
Gary died peacefully the next day.
Taylor recalls that moment with a softness that still anchors her. She noticed a change in his breathing and whispered, “I think he just took his last breath.” A nurse came immediately, placed a hand gently on his chest, and said, “Did you go to heaven, my friend?”
That sentence, Taylor says, will stay with her forever.
The nurse didn’t rush. She didn’t whisper clinical terms. She spoke like someone who understood that death is holy ground—something to be handled with honor.
And even after Gary’s body was taken to the funeral home, the nurse stayed outside, hugging Taylor’s nieces as they watched the car pull away.
“That level of love,” Taylor said, “you don’t forget.”
Why Hospice Matters
Hospice is not giving up. Hospice is giving the end the same love and dignity we fight so hard to give the beginning.
Taylor said it best:
“Hospice is love. You’re trusting them with the person you love most. You’re trusting that they will care for them when you can’t. And they do—because they truly love what they do.”
Hospice allowed Gary to pass without pain. It allowed his family to stop being medical managers and start being present. It allowed his grandchildren to sleep in the waiting room and not be shushed. It allowed laughter and grief to coexist.
But most of all, it allowed a family to experience beauty in the middle of loss.
A Way To Honor Lives Like Gary’s
INTEGRIS Health Hospice cares for families like Taylor’s every single day. That care is made possible not just by nurses and chaplains, but by donors—people who believe that no one should die alone, afraid, or in pain.
This season, the Tree of Life campaign offers a powerful way to honor the people we’ve loved and lost while supporting compassionate end-of-life care for families who need it most.
🌿 Give in memory of someone you love.
🌿 Help another family experience the peace you would want for your own.
🌿 Get a customized holiday ornament in their honor.
Make your gift today and keep the light of love glowing for Oklahoma families.
Story by Kris Leininger