Month: August 2019

Jesus Is Waiting

I am at a loss. I have been trying to blog since we came home from inpatient hospice on Monday. I have written and deleted I don’t know how many times. Nothing seems right for me to put on the page. I’m all over the place.

We were given such a gift from God on Monday. Dad woke up, is how I like to describe it. It’s called a rally. It’s very common for a person to have a rally as it gets closer to the time that they are going to pass. He was alert and he wanted to eat and we all got to spend some time with him. I think we all got to tell him things that we thought we weren’t going to get the chance to tell him. I had the chance to tell him I love him again. I had the chance to hear him tell me he loved me. I was able to hold his hand and look in his eyes and let him know how very much he means to me. What a good, good, father he is. I don’t want to let him go. Looking around the room at all the people that had gathered to spend a moment with him and love on him was overwhelming. There must have been close to 20 people in the room. A person isn’t surrounded by that many people if they did not touch all those lives in some special way. The room was lit up with laughter and love, tears of joy and tears of sadness. I went to bed that night feeling like I had been rushed from the bottom of Mt. Everest straight to the top in about 5 seconds. Cold wind rushing in my face, snow hitting me and standing on the top peak with the sun shining down on me warming every part of my being making me feel alive.

Only to wake up the next morning and find that he had gone back inside himself again. As fast as I had been whisked to the peak I had been dragged back down to the valley and the trip was exhausting. He was still somewhat responsive and could call us by name. We were still able to talk to him and understand if he was uncomfortable or in pain or not. He was still able to say I love you but that spark that had been lit the day before was slowly going out. Little by little he has traveled inward until he is unresponsive. We might get some sort of an answer every now and then when we talk to him and ask him questions but I believe he is battling now. He has many conversations, most of them we can’t decipher but he is talking to someone. The nurse explained so many things to us about the mind and the body and how they fight against eachother. His body is struggling and is tired and I think he is ready to rest but his mind still wants to stay and isn’t ready to quite let go. He is having hallucinations according to the nurse and I like to think he sees his Mom. Meemaw is sitting in her rocking chair chuckling and shaking all over and can’t wait to hug him and show him around. I’m so excited for him to go and sit and talk with Jesus. I know he is going to have all his quesions answered and I can just picture his face full of light and love and joy when he sees the Father. At the same time I want to be selfish and hold on to him. I know it is time. I don’t want him to suffer or be in pain or struggle to stay because he thinks we are not going to be ok. I have told him it’s ok. He can go. As much as I will miss him and mourn his loss I know I will see him again. That’s what makes death so bearable. I know he knows Jesus as his Lord and savior. I know Jesus as my Lord and savior. I know where he is going without the shadow of a doubt and I know where I am going. So I know we will be reunited. Death is not the end. It’s just the beginning. We are only on this earth for a short period of time. If there is one thing my Dad would want anyone to know who is reading this or who knew him it would be Jesus loves you. Jesus died for you. Jesus rose from the dead for you. You can have eternal life and live with him in eternity if you just believe and accept him as your lord and savior, admit you are a sinner (as we all are) and believe he died and rose from the dead and is the one true Son of the living God. He will wash you white as snow and you will be forgiven. You will have eternal life. So you see, earth is just a short journey and we should certainly live and love and spread the love of Jesus Christ while we are here. Death is where our real life begins. It’s where we are made whole again if we so choose and to live in peace for eternity or to be separated from God for all eternity. That is the true definition of hell.

So while I sit here today by my Dads bed and watch him labor to breathe and struggle with a foot in both worlds so to speak I pray that he will hear us and know that it is ok. I love him with all my heart but Jesus is waiting and I will see him in a short while where we can sit and talk just me and him on the steps.

What’s Most Important

I am laying in the hospice suite at Regional Memorial tonight getting ready to go to bed. My Dad was taken to the ER yesterday and then admitted to ICU. Now the day before, Friday, he was at Sheltering Arms, where he had been for a little over a week doing physical therapy getting his strength back and was walking with his cane and going up 3,4 steps and coming down them. He was doing really good. We were looking forward to him being released the following Saturday and coming home. We just wanted to take care of him and make him comfortable. Let him feel the sun on his face, feel the breeze be surrounded by the people that love him the most and would do anything to make this process as easy and pain free as we could.

He had a heart attack! Yes, I know. That’s not in the script. We didn’t plan for that. We have everything lined up just so and that doesn’t involve a heart attack a trip to the ICU and my Dad dying at any time now. He has a year to a year and a half. Oh wait, no probably a year, that’s more of what we should expect. Well, now we are thinking more like 6 to 9 months. Wow, this really is a tragedy. We did not think this was going to play out like this. We thought we would have several rounds of chemo, radiation etc. etc. This is just not how we saw this going. These of course are not the exact words from the Dr. Some, but you get the general idea. We are just a little under the three month mark. How did we go from a year and a half to we might not even make it to three months? How did we get here? This just happened so fast? I’m not ready? I have plans, I’ve rearranged my house for him to come stay there. I want him to sit on the front porch with me. I want to read to him, take him on walks. My Mom is not ready. She has plans for things she wants to do or say I’m sure. My brother and sisters, his grandchildren, great grandchildren, nieces, nephews, friends. We have things to do and say and want to have that one special moment in the time we have left! It’s not fair! Don’t take that from me God!

I needed to take a minute and get myself together. I have calmed down a little. I forgot during all my planning that I wasn’t in control. I haven’t been in control of any aspect of this since the very beginning. Nothing about this cancer has gone the direction we thought it was going to go and everytime we get comfortable a curve ball is thrown our way. I don’t get to plan my Dad’s last days. The hour and the time, the when and the where. Is there comforting music playing. Is he surrounded by all his family. Have we all gotten to look in his eyes at least once since this started and let him know how much we love him, how much he means to us, how much we are going to miss him. How JT and I know that if we ever saw an alien he is the only one that would ever believe us. How he can look at me and know if I’m not doing well I can talk to him about anything, if I need to call him in the middle of the night to have him pray for me or anything there is never a question he just does. That no matter what I have done in my life I know my Dad loves me unconditionally. PERIOD!!

I don’t know if anyone got to say or do all they wanted. I don’t think there would ever be enough time to be honest with you because the list would go on forever. I do know a couple of things though in thinking and writing all of this out. As I wrote this I saw how many things that I listed that I wanted to make sure I got to do and I got to say and I wanted. It’s not about me. It’s not about my comfort. It’s not about making sure I get to take care of my to do list so I feel better. This is about my Dad. All those things are nice and great and movies play out so wonderfully when they show how everything just falls into place so naturally and beautifully. Well that’s not real life. What is real life? What? This is so hard. Losing a parent is just not even registering correctly with me right now.

I want my Dad to know he is loved. I know he knows I love him. I know he knows through this process he is loved by more people than he thought. More people have reached out, visited, sent cards, called, texted, done acts of kindness the list goes on. My Dad was overwhelmed by the love he received and the places it came from. Every hospital we had to go to for even one day do you know what we heard over and over. Wow, he really has a lot of people that love him. We take over a waiting room when we come in. It’s a lot of people. When we were waiting during his brain surgery the Dr. came out and said whoa, you guys have your own rugby team here. A lot of people love him and we all rally and love on each other. I know I’m bias but my Dad has the best family in the world.

I want my Dad to be comfortable. He is. That’s where we are now. He is comfortable. It wasn’t my step by step plan, it was God’s. I keep forgetting I’m not his assistant. My brother Buddy made a statement that this might have been better for him and for us than to have him struggle and suffer months on end from the effects of the brain tumor. I never thought about that. He would slowly lose control of the left side of his body. Sight, movement, feeling, speech and much more. Is that what I want so I can sit on the front porch with him or take him for a walk. I think not.

So Lord willing we will be able to move him to my house tomorrow so he is in a familiar comfortable place, we can fit a lot of family in and people can stay the night but that is in Gods hands. He is a good good Father and he knows whats best for my Dad and that’s what’s most important.

(Just a little side note. I am super tired and I typed this and proof read it without my glasses on so ignore any misspelled words or crazy ramblings. I just wanted to get my thoughts out tonight. Thanks ya’ll)

Thank God

Wow! I can’t believe I haven’t written in over a month. When I started this in May my goal was to atleast write once a week if not more and it was going to be about my walk. The struggles I have had with sobriety, with relationships, being a Mom, with God, just generally being me and living. If I could encourage just one person out there and open up about my failures, my struggles, my victories all the wonderings that race through this head of mine it would be worth it. Little did I know that when I started writing it would be so healing for me. So God has blessed me just by writing and sharing. I really hope it helps someone out there and I hope most of all you know you are not alone in how you feel or what you go through. If nothing else though I heal a little more each time I sit here and the letters flow through my fingers to make the words on the page.

I did not intend to take this much of a break but life has a way of sticking it’s foot out as you are running by and making you really ugly fall. When my Dad was diagnosed with an Anaplastic Astrocytoma Brain tumor on May 23rd life really did stick it’s foot out. Actually it threw a ridiculous amount of marbles out onto the road and I, well my whole family, have been trying to navigate that road ever since. We’ve been sliding and rolling and doing a balancing act to stay upright and move forward at the same time. We have all been trying to find our place in this and be where we need to be. What I have seen over these last months is nothing short of amazing. I have also learned God has given every one of us a different gift that we have the potential to use during a time like this. People have reached out in so many different ways and the love and support have often come from places that we did not expect. I also am learning to accept help from people and not to judge someones motives. Where I was expecting certain things from one direction they were coming from another. Not everyone can deal with illness, caregiving and dying the same way. You have to learn to meet people where they are and be thankful for the gifts that God has given them and how they are using them. Some are great encouragers, some send wonderful cards, some just check in time to time to see how you are doing. Others are hospital visitors, meal providers, shoulders to cry on and people to vent to. Some work with their hands and have contacts in the right places, loaning and putting together a wheelchair ramp that saved us a lot of money. Some send people to clean your house when you just don’t have it in you or to put in a handicap toilet because your Dad is coming to live with you. Others drive 5 hours here and back almost every weekend to give you a break and because they want to be here to take care of their Father, Grandfather, Grandfather in law. If they could be here 24/7 they would. Still others drive that far just to visit or have given money either to help with expenses or they have donated to the National Brain Tumor Society. I say all that to say I am learning to let people use the gifts they have and not require things and judge people for their actions as to why they did or didn’t do something. That is not a complete list of all the amazing people who are around us daily or who have been there for us and helped us through this. It’s just a little glimpse of how blessed we are.

I have also learned how I must pay it forward. I know the next time I run accross someone who is going through something. An illness, a crisis, a marble balancing act, instead of just saying how sorry I am and let me know if there is anything I can do I need to show up. That doesn’t have to mean to their house every day or maybe it does if that’s what God wants from me. A card, a meal, a phone call, some flowers, whatever the circumstance try to meet the need. That person is never going to let you know if they need anything so I know I just need to do.

This is a hard journey. For my Dad, for my family, for all those its affecting around us but I do know one thing. I have seen God show up a lot through out this and I need to remember that. I have seen my family become closer because of this and I need to be thankful. I have seen the giving heart of people that I never even thought cared and I need to rejoice. I have gained a lot of wisdom through this and I need to give it away. I have had my own personal hardships but I have also had my own personal victories and I need to Thank God.