Today marks 75 days that my father has been in the hospital. 75 days he has been in bed, I never saw my father in bed before this moment. 75 days that he has not been at home or walked in the fields, or been on his motorcycle…
I have been by his side 72 days for hours on end. I have come to know my father intimately… I have seen him endure many things, seen how he handles pain, frustration and how he copes with letting go and letting be. He is an amazing man. I wonder if I would be as strong.
When you stay in one place in silence, alone with suffering the path of reflection gives way, either one runs or follows. If one stays the lessons are many and worthy.
The other day he tapped on my arm saying, he loved me and then thank you. Of course my eyes welled up with tears but when he added, "I wish I had more daughters." I instantly grinned adding, "I would be sooooooooooooooo jealous!" We laughed at that.
There is a glimmer of something good no matter how awful the situation is, something that allows you to hold on and get by.
It is in these small moments that light pours in transforming the reality allowing tenderness to heal this journey.
It might seem odd but I feel I have been offered a gift to witness my father on this part of his journey… Oh the sacred holiness of life, to stand at the edge of the cliff knowing that we are not alone.
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