The Way it Happened by Jon

Last Wednesday morning February 17, 2010 before dawn Maryjoy, Grampa and
Grandma were driving on the freeway out to watch the sunrise in the Arizona
desert when they were struck from behind by a faster moving semi out. They
were concluding a wonderful couple of weeks together. Grandma was thrown,
breaking her scapula and a couple of ribs. She was unconscious. Grampa
suffered spinal fractures in the neck and mid back, broken ribs and
undetermined head injuries. Mary was banged around, but nothing was broken.
She rendered what aid she could. The truck driver called 911.
Grandma had been thrown, breaking her scapula and a couple of ribs. She was unconscious. Grampa had been driven headfirst into the back portions of the motor home, suffering spinal fractures in the neck and mid back, broken ribs and undetermined head injuries. Mary was banged around, but nothing was broken. She rendered what aid she could. The truck driver called 911.
They were all helicoptered to Phoenix, St. Joseph's hospital. Grampa and Grandma were both conscious at this time, but shortly after arriving in the hospital, Grampa slipped into a natural coma.
On Sunday all 6 of us were gathered in Grampa's ICU room. He remained comatose, on life support, showing no signs of pain or awareness. His doctors, after careful attention over the preceding days, advised us that he would almost certainly die within 30 days regardless of what was done for him, and in the event of his recovery his quality of life would be harsh and physically disabled.
Grampa had, in his wallet, a card with the website where his living will was to be obtained. In that document, he stated that in such a situation as I have just described, his instructions were:
no hospitalization
no resuscitation**
no artificial feeding
no artificial life support.
His instructions were countersigned by his lawyer. We looked at the whole picture, spoke with Dad, felt carefully, and asked the hospital to remove the life support equipment.
Cam and I remained in the room while this was done, watching carefully for any signal that he felt otherwise than what he had written, now that the actual moment had arrived. A person has the right to change his mind. Life is precious. His eyes never moved, he made no sign of objection (other than facial grimacing when the tape was being pulled off of his mustache), then we took turns sitting at his bedside through the night so that he was not alone. In the morning at about 7:30, after a night of continued steady breathing and heartbeat, I went to the hotel to get someone to shift me. About 20 minutes later, we got a call that his oxygen levels had fallen somewhat, and he was probably checking out fairly soon. Perhaps 15 minutes later, as Cam and I were walking down the hotel hall toward the hospital, we got a second call that he had slipped quietly away. Just like Grampa.
We are planning to have his body brought back to Osoyoos for a funeral, which will be in 2 weeks, more or less. We hope you will come with your family.
It was, under the circumstances, a beautiful passing. If they are taking requests, I request one like this for myself. The nurses wondered about his undrugged, natural coma. He showed no signs of being in pain, after the first pain of the accident itself, when he repeatedly warned of the pain in his back and that his spine was injured. The family gathered around him in love and concern for his welfare, and carefully waited for the doctors to do all they could before agreeing to implement Dad's written instructions. The only impressions I received as I'd pondered the accident, during the wee hours of the morning after I'd heard about it Thursday night, was, /"Leave him alone."/ That puzzled me at the time, but he finally would not depart until we left him alone. Now life has to go on without his physical presence on this side of the veil.

By Arian Lewis

I was 12 years old when I really got to know Joy. He was the lively grandpa type, a type I had never known. Every conversation seemed to be an adventure with him. He eyes and smile were vibrant and full of enthusiasm. As an energetic 12 year old I was surprised to find that his energy, in many cases, exceeded my own. In fact I tried to challenge him to find ways that I could beat him at doing things, and he loved the game. On one occasion I believe we started a conversation where I was asserting that I could not be shaken on the water skis. That was a challenge that Joy was up to- without a moment to spare. Even though it was dusk and the sun was just dipping behind the hills we started out on the lake. I got up on the skis and noticed we were headed straight for the bridge. He drove the boat at full speed under the bridge and directly into the swimming area. I could hear something hitting the boat up a head in succession. It was dark by now and I could barely see the swimming buoys popping up out of the water just before they hit me. I could hear Joy’s laughs but despite my yelling at him he just kept on with the challenge. I could have let go at any moment but I was not going to let this grandpa show me up.

Joy made several sharp turns and creative moves with the boat in an attempt to shake me. Eventually we headed back to the home end of the lake passing through the bridge as we had before. Just before reaching home, where I had planned to let go of the rope and sail on into the beach, Joy surprised me with one last turn. He slowed the boat down and took a quick and hard u-turn and then speed back up again. The last thing I recall was the boat passing me in one direction with Joy giving me a big smile and laugh. As always, his eyes were gleaming with excitement- bright and strong. I quickly found myself off the skis and floating in the water, he had won.

There are many men, in today’s world, who get caught in the races of life without really living. I value Joy’s living legacy because he found a way to make it through life without missing out on it. He had a lust for life, adventure, nature, and people. Hats off to a man who lived life with enthusiasm and who was willing to love a bold little 12 year old as he would his own grandson. I will miss you Joy.

I can only imagine the incredible adventure and journey he is now on, I am certain he is sharing his big spirit in a bold fashion on the other side. I am certain we will see Joy again.

Memory of Joy O'Neil Sevy 1924-2010

Joy O, as he was lovingly called, was and is very interested in living life to the fullest possible. That included a little work, a lot of play, much interaction with others. Joy loved to talk with friends, particularly if he could hear everything that went on. After being deaf for 15+ years, he had one of the first magnetic/electronic implants to his right cochlear, which is the small, spiral shaped organ inside our heads that turns sound waves into electronic impulses so we can hear. Suddenly, after years of silence and withdrawal, Joy could hear again and our father returned to us.

JoyBoy, another loving term our dear mother, Alberta ("Bert" or "Berta"), called him, loved to play with his children and grandchildren, albeit for shorter periods of time as he got older. He would play around with the little ones, letting them crawl over him and as they got older would often have them stand on his hands and balance as he pushed them up into the air. After a good play and talk, perhaps planning a tennis or golf game, he would often just saunter off and disappear, silently leaving us to wonder where and when he had gone, an unfortunate propensity he developed during the years of deafness.

Joy was a competitor, especially when he knew he had a real chance at winning. All too often, unfortunately, some of the fun was lost when others wanted to just play and Dad wanted to WIN. However, his competetive spirit sure came in handy in the 2009 Yuma Senior Games. He either placed or won in every event he entered, winning more gold medals in one day than many competitors win in a lifetime. He even tried the javelin and discus for the first time in his life and at age 83 (I think) practiced enough to gain the skill to win a medal in those sports, too. What a sportsman; what a competitor; what a winner; what a guy! (Sorry, ladies. It's a guy thing.)

Cowboy poetry was one of Joy's loves. Actually, it was performing and entertaining that Joy loved and he would often successfully "wow" his family and friends with a funny or tender poem, rendered with passion and great facial expressions and perfect timing. It is well known among the family that we could often count on Dad/Grandpa for some good and well-seasoned "Ham". We all loved him a little more for that.

Dearest Family

Hi Family and friends,
We have created this blog to have a place we can share our thoughts, stories and photos Joy O Sevy.
He was a man who was larger than life and we all have so many wonderful memories, it would be a shame to lose them.
We will be using the photos at the funeral and will put the stories and photos into a book.
Thank you so much!
Paige