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Monday, February 02, 2015

Dad

A little over two weeks ago I sat at my parents' kitchen island and shared in their breakfast rituals. First mom and dad took turns with the Bible reading and the Daily Bread. Then they dug into their raisin bran and homemade yogurt as only an 88 and 92 year old can. Dad struggling to make the spoon meet his mouth and mom pouring milk from the same rose pitcher we used when I was a child.

Later that day, my brother and I drove our dad to the hospital. He'd had a rough week, and we suspected an infection. He wasn't moving well, he wasn't remembering well, and nobody was sleeping well at all.

Now dad lives in room One-Ten.

On Sunday mornings I take the foil off his plastic carton of milk.

And together, we read the Daily Bread.

 

6 comments:

Judy said...

Oh, Joyce. I am praying for you all.

Lisa said...

Words fail me Joyce..........just know that I understand and I am praying.

joyce said...

everyone goes through this. I have trouble not minimizing it because dad is old and he's been a good dad, and he's had a good life, and he's not at all dead yet.

but you guys know.
I know you know.
thanks.

Brenda Funk said...

I went through this with my Dad just about two years ago now (March), and it is so painful to watch your strong, good, faithful Dad just fade away before your eyes. Nothing prepares you for it. Even when your work is palliative care and working with exactly these kinds of people. Wishing you strength and courage for each day....

Brenda said...

I lost my dad 3 years ago now. I grew up his princess and held that position until the day he died. Days after he'd been sent home from the hospital, weaker than ever, my mom asked me to come and stay with him so she could run out and pick up some meds. He'd been lethargic and mostly too weak to even open his eyes. But when I arrived I sat down beside the bed and he held my hands and gazed up at me for what seemed like an eternity. I gave him a kiss and told him I loved him before I left. That was the last moment we had together. I treasure that moment with all my heart. Thinking of you Joyce. Make the very best of these moments.

janice said...

I am so sorry Joyce. It hurts and it hurts and it hurts. I think you know that it is a huge great thing that he lived in his own home until now, and was not languishing in a nursing home for years. I hope when my time comes, euthanasia is an option, so I don't ever sit in a wheel chair and drool.

Big hugs. Enjoy all your family, as they gather. Be careful - my sis-in-law tore her ACL dancing in her living room after Dad's funeral. These family gatherings can be dangerous.