To save a life the doctors are
giving my father poison.
It sounds wrong.
I pray it's right.
But that's what they do when your
body is full of things that shouldn't be there. Things that they don't know how
or why, exactly, started growing. They just did.
It feels wrong to set and watch
your father's face grow paler by the second as the poison slowly drips through
the tube, through the needle and into his vein.
It is wrong.
But I pray that it will become
right.
He was the first man in my life.
I adore him.
He is strong, resourceful, patient,
loving, thoughtful, honest, handsome, intimidating (at times, if he needs to
be), courageous, peaceful, smart, fun, funny, studious, kind, doting, clean,
and safe.
And he's sick.
I'd rather it be me.
He's glad it's him. That's just how
he is.
I've wondered if it's easier to
loose your hair when you don't have much.
He claims that it will be, with a
smile and twinkle in his eye.
From where I stand he's facing this
challenge much the same as I'm sure he has all of the challenges of his life.
With quiet resolute strength.
I haven't heard him ask why. May be
he has.
Without a doubt I have.
In my minds eye I see him 34 years
ago, black wavy hair and gray blue eyes opening the door for me to climb into
our old red Volkswagen.
It was a Saturday and we were going
to put gas in the car. Somehow I talked him into taking me to the toy store. I
walked out of the store with a new dress for my Barbie doll, it was pink and
lace and he thought it was just as beautiful as I did.
Then it was off to the gas station.
A trip to the gas station wasn't complete without a bottle of orange soda pop and some crackers.
Arms full of treats and Barbie
dresses I remember setting next to him and looking up in awe at how handsome he
was. I told him thank you and how much I loved him.
I remember I was sure he didn't
understand exactly how much I loved him because I didn't know the words or how
to arrange those words so he could understand.
Now here I am three decades later
and I feel the same way. I haven't learned the right words to properly express
my love, adoration, appreciation and gratitude in a way that truly
encompasses my feelings about and for my father.
His life has been spent in service
to his family, his neighbors and his country. It has given him understanding
that is spoken in the kind depths of his eyes and the soft curve of a smile
that never completely leaves his face.
Time and experience have made my
dad even more handsome than he was when I was 3 or even when he was 30.
What would I do to save a life.....his
life?
Anything......
Everything......
I pray......I love.....
and I watch as they give him
poison.
Oh I'm sorry Carol. I will keep him in my prayers. Sending love to you.
ReplyDeleteI hadn't cried about grandpa until now. I guess it just hasn't seemed real. Part of me refuses to accept it. But the fact that Grandpa is one of best men that I know does not change. Thanks for posting.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kristin.
ReplyDeleteSorry Jamie, I didn't mean to make you cry. Love you.
Beautiful post. Left me crying though, it is all too familiar. I am keeping you in my prayers as well as your dad. I like him a lot, and have never met him! I know this is a heart wrenching experience to go through. If you ever need to cry, call me. If you ever want to laugh, I can help with that too. ;)
ReplyDelete