I hold his weakening hand. It’s day 18 since the stroke, day 10 since life support was turned off.
Dads breathing stops occasionally. He opens his eyes and moves his head, but cannot see, and cannot speak.
I get hand squeezes sometimes, when I’m reading to him, or just sitting silently with him. He’s there, I know he is, even when doctors tell me otherwise.
These 18 days have felt like months. My eyes and heart are heavy. My first best friend will be with Jesus soon.
The man that built snow-forts with me.
The man that got more into school projects than we did (if only I could find a picture of the volcano I watched him build for my third grade project… we weren’t fooling anyone).
The man that worked tirelessly to provide.
The man that encouraged me my hard work would pay off.
The man that walked me down the aisle.
The man that never tired of telling me how proud he was of Cody and I.
The man that loved on my boys.
The man that came over every other Sunday to have a cup of coffee and catch up.
The man that sat with me at church and renewed his faith.
The man that began playing pool and became part of a community (a hope Cody and I always had for him).
He has not been perfect. He would be the first to admit it, but he loved. He would give the shirt off his back, say “yes ma’am, no ma’am, thank you sir”. He had a goofy sense of humor- one that my brother and I have become proud of inheriting. He never liked or wanted for anything. He was talented, kind, funny and proud.
I’ve been praying for a miracle… to come up to his room and find him sitting up, drinking coffee, and telling his dad jokes.
Only problem is that the miracle I’m praying for, may not be the miracle God will provide.
Gods miracle may be taking my dad. Mentally, physically and emotionally, this life has not been easy for him. You would never hear dad complain of it though.
I am choosing to trust god in this. As hard as it is, and as much as I want to have my way, my control, my say… I can’t.
God has taught me over and over that his ways have always been for the better…
2 days before I planned on committing suicide in college, God intervened.
In the days I never thought I’d marry, I found my fella.
In the six years I prayed and cried over wanting children, god gave Calvin and Miles to us, in his time, not ours.
I want so badly for dad to be with us, but this is a time when I can only trust gods provision.
Calvin and Miles have been so loving, so kind, so nurturing to me through this. In the midst of wiping tears from my eyes, they remind me that “grandpa with the mustache” will be in JesusLand soon.
Anyone else picture a rollercoaster theme park when you hear JesusLand? Just me?
I love it, picturing Dad sitting side by side with Jesus, his nephew Luke, his sister Cindy, grandma and grandpa Cejda. All with big smiles and hands in the air.
Whether heaven is a theme park with rollercoasters or not, I know without doubt that my dad will have freedom, joy, and peace. No more suffering.
So I hold his hand while I can. I tell him every hour I love him. I say every thing I’ve been grateful for in him. I share texts and phone calls of people praying all over the country for him. I sit here journaling and realizing how thankful I am for this time with him, before he passes. Some people don’t get that opportunity. You can look at it as a blessing or a curse, I will always choose blessing.
My brother and I are grateful to god for the 34 and 36 years we have had this man as our earthly dad. We choose to give thanks, we choose to trust.
We choose Gods ultimate healing in our dad, and have joy for dads front row seat in JesusLand.