Time to Share

I haven't been hiding it.  I just haven't made it "public".  My father is dying.  His severe weight loss is an indication of something doctors have not identified...because we don't want him to go through any uncomfortable and invasive testing.  All of his major arteries have blockage; but, we are fortunate that he still functions very well and gets around very well (even up and down stairs!).  I am totally convinced this is possible only by the grace of God--to give him that independence at this time so he can continue to live in our home.  The doctors say he has less than six months left; and, they have recommended hospice care.

I pray often that he knows only happiness and comfort; and, my family and I work hard to give him that.  He rarely has pain.  He complained of his back hurting a bit today; so, I hope that goes away tomorrow.

I pray that he knows in his heart how many people he matters to.  He touched so many lives through his work as an ordained minister and a servant to God through his Jehovah's Witnesses' faith.  He was a student of theology his whole life.  He has many books that helped him (and helped him help others) understand God's words in the bible.  I wish I could reach out to all of those people and tell them to write to my Dad.  I don't know where or how to find them.  The two main congregations he led were in Westmont and he helped build the Kingdom Hall in Bolingbrook (what year was it?  1979 or 1980? They built it in two days!  It made the news!).  He does not remember these things because of his dementia.  But, he is eloquent and articulate in his prayers (which we encourage him to do often, once we discovered this).

He was also a student of life.  I miss hearing all the facts that I, at one time, deemed "useless"--unless, of course, he decided to ever go on, "Jeopardy!" (something we encouraged him to do many times).

This has been hard.  I am not ready to say "goodbye".  I guess all I need to do is let him know how much of a difference he made to me, to my life.  I hope to share some of those things with you.

In the face of much adversity, my father has often been (and, probably always will be)-- my rock.  Thank you, Dad.  For everything.  I will not give up on you.  I hope to be your rock now.