so far this week i’ve:

eaten my weight in fast food.
driven to Lebanon and back twice.
spent more time in a hospital room than at work.
cried my weight in tears.
exclaimed, “and today’s only Monday!” at least twice.

my dad, who spent the weekend dealing with what we thought was dehydration and the effects of over-heating, was admitted to the hospital yesterday.  i won’t give too many details, mostly because there aren’t really any explanations, but he’s not doing well.  and they don’t know why.  his labs have confusing results and no one is quite sure where to begin.  so they order more labs while we wait for results.

after being there late last night, then hearing that he didn’t sleep well and had other issues pop up in testing this morning, i couldn’t help the tears from flowing between calls.  finally, i cried “uncle” and my sis and i left early to head for the hospital.

there slept my rock, this man who, just 3 mos ago was the only face i wanted to see as paramedics loaded me into the back of a ambulance.  the only person i could fully admit how scared i was after being hit by a bicycle.  his were the arms who held me when i cried while first seeing my bent and broken bike, who told me “you’re the only one who knows how you’re feeling, so cry if you need to.”

i sat there all afternoon with my sis and step-mom, the roles quite reversed.  it was me that was needed, me who could offer the loving touch, the kiss on the cheek, the cool wash cloth on a burning forehead.

still, that was the most i could do, and it was quite powerless.  i couldn’t make an answer come sooner or take away the excruciating headache.

i can’t make him better.

it felt so strange, almost foreign, to leave the barrenness of such a scene for the tranquil landscape of farmland beneath the foggy twilight of a hot summer evening.  the days just keep going on, life keeps elvolving, moving forward.

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3 thoughts on “

  1. I only know a little of what you’re going through and, consequently and frankly, I have little in the way of honest comfort to give you. I can only offer you my thoughts, my best wishes and my hopes for a speedy recovery. I sincerely hope that things will get better for you and your family soon. You are in my thoughts 🙂

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