In the Spring

In the Spring, a photo by Marvett Smith (Savoring the Simple) on Flickr.

I drove by the nursing home last week. For just a moment I forgot. I was ready to pull into the parking lot and prepare myself to walk through the doors. Suddenly, I remembered as I drew closer to the entrance that dad wasn't there anymore. The only familiar feeling that I felt as I drove past was my breath catch in my throat as I took in the reality that I would not visit him there again. I guess I'm still adjusting to the fact that he is gone and sometimes it is painful, but I couldn't help but smile as the building pulled away from my view as I passed. Each time that I am overwhelmed with sadness, it is always followed by peace and assurance that dad is happy now. The spring flowers have a new meaning for me now too. They will always help to remind me of the final days that I spent with dad, and our last day outside soaking in the sun. They too bring a smile to my face when I see them dancing in the sun.

The Light

The light, a photo by Marvett Smith (Savoring the Simple) on Flickr.

“There is a light in this world, a healing spirit more powerful than any darkness we may encounter. We sometimes lose sight of this force when there is suffering, too much pain. Then suddenly, the spirit will emerge through the lives of ordinary people who hear a call and answer in extraordinary ways.” - Mother Teresa 

This rings so true for me for the last little while. Since my dad's passing, I have been the recipient of so many acts of kindness. I can't begin to say thank you enough for all that has been done on behalf of myself and my family. Moving on is so hard, but little by little we are putting one foot in front of the other. I am learning that there really is no such thing as normal. There is just right now, and I want to do my best every day to make the most of every right now that happens.

The Last Walk

The Last Walk, a photo by Marvett Smith (Savoring the Simple) on Flickr.

Last Saturday my daughter and I took my dad outside for a walk in the warm sun. The walk was short from his room to the patio, but I wanted him to feel the sun on his face, to get some fresh air, and to see the beautiful flowers growing just outside the door. We only stayed outside for a half an hour or so before he asked to return to his room. I didn't know it at the time, but this would be our last walk together. My dad completed his suffering on Tuesday morning, and he peacefully slipped away from us. My heart is heavy at this time knowing that it will be some time before I see him again, but I also share in the happiness I know he is experiencing because he is finally free. I have great respect for those of you who have lived through this kind of grief, and I am grateful for so many strong examples. I know the coming days will be rough, but I'm thankful to have had this man in my life and to have loved him so much. I am especially grateful for the last year and all of the extra time we spent together. My little family has wonderful memories to hold onto until we see him again.

Getting a Shave

Getting a Shave, a photo by Marvett Smith (Savoring the Simple) on Flickr.

A few things are constant when I visit dad in the nursing home. Immediately upon walking in I always find myself drawing in a big breath in preparation for what condition I might find him in, and then there's always the same elderly man that I pass on my way down the hall. He's always sitting in his wheelchair in front of the window with his devoted wife holding his hand and her undying faith urges him to speak to her once more. Then there are those who sit in the same chairs in the dining room. They gather there three times a day and each time they navigate to the same spots over and over as if it's been routine for years. Maybe it has, and then I consistently begin to wonder. What is their history? What brought each of them to this point? What happened to them, and do they have family that visit? These things are constant, but as I continue to visit I realize more and more the importance of two things. First of all the importance of the relationships I am creating in my life. I hope I'm making a priority of building relationships that mean something, and that last. Second, I hope that I am using my time wisely, and taking advantage of all of the things my healthy body can do. This one hit me hard yesterday as I watched my mom shave my dad's face. It's been years since he has had the luxury of doing this on his own, and I realized yesterday how much happiness it would bring him to do this simple act all on his own. It's made me realize even more that it's the little things in life that matter most, and I'm grateful that I can continue learning from dad through this experience even when at times it is so painful.

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday, a photo by Marvett Smith (Savoring the Simple) on Flickr.

Two best buddies. This year he celebrated his birthday at the nursing home with grandpa. Grandpa quickly smiled as he watched him open his gift, and I was happy to witness my sweet boy throw his arms around grandpa's neck when he got a whole set of matchbox cars. His very favorite, and exactly what he wanted. Even though grandpa has had lots of rough days as of late, his best little buddy sees him exactly the way he always has. He is not only grandpa, he is one of his very best friends. :)

Sitting Up

Sitting Up, a photo by Marvett Smith (Savoring the Simple) on Flickr.

He got to sit up today and even leave his room for a few minutes. Today was a good day. I continue to marvel at the way he endures and makes the best of his situation. He is such a great example to me and my hooligans. Days like this one are a blessing.

Rough Days

Rough Days, a photo by Marvett Smith (Savoring the Simple) on Flickr.

My dad has been very sick for the last two weeks. Each year when we take him to the hospital for something new I always wonder if it will be the time that he doesn't come home. I'm worried that this might be the time. We are doing our best to keep his spirits up, and spending as much time with him as we can. These are rough days, but I am reminded that we can do hard things.