I promised you an update on the weekend…
And herer you go, sponsored by Tiltweiser, the official Cheer of Instant Tragedy!
What can I say? I think the opening “Iit was the best of times and the worst of times,” has great meaning for me. Dad is struggling. I probably saw him eat a quarter of what he usually did and it worried me. My father is a man of strength, a man of courage, a man that fights. But he’s hurting. For a man of early 60’s he looks like he was in his late 70’s. There is a part of me that sees the twinkle in his eye. I see him stuck behind the massive amounts of tape, medicines and tubes. He’s got a ton of fight left in him.
Lev is home. He can’t drive anymore and he’s stuck at the house with my aunt. He’s weak and hopefully getting better. I talked to my cousin and he said Lev was doing “fine”.
I spent this weekend talking to dad, it was a weekend of figuring things out. He needed my help in renovating my brother and sister in law’s house tearing out carpet and removing carpet nails, cleaning the garage and hanging a mirror. He would rather be doing it, but his body is not allowing him to work.
He was stubborn, and I understood.
He was angry, and I understood.
He was sad, and I understood.
He was depressed, and I understood.
I was there to listen, to talk, to help him and my mom in any way.
Yes, it was a short trip, yes, I need to do it again and yes, I needed to do it for my heart.
I worked, we talked, and I listened to him sleep. Sleep, which I take for granted, is something that he cannot take for granted. He may sleep for an hour or may sleep for 6. But he’s always up and anxious for his bidaily IV of Antibiotics. They are screwing with his tastebuds and normally I wouldn’t worry. But he is eating so little that I have to worry.
I was more worried at the noises he makes at night, as he tries to sleep. It’s not snoring but a struggle to breathe with the coughing and wheezing. I wish I could describe the noise. But I know that he struggles at night.
Last night we went to Outback to have dinner. Sitting a table of 13 is a struggle with the grandchildren and everyone tired from working at the house. Dad stayed back while we worked and we drug him out to get fresh air. He hid his drainage bags underneath his sweats and we were warmly greeted by the staff of Outback, who welcomed my dad back to the world. Even the manager was worried. It says something about my dad when people he may see 3 or 4 times a month worry about him. But that’s my dad. Everyone knows him and doesn’t have a bad word to say about him.
I also spent time with my Grandmother, who had been driving my mom crazy. I think that she’s just lonely and needed me to talk to. We talked about all the things that drive Mom crazy, politics, religion, our deceased relatives. I also helped her with a jigsaw puzzle.
It was good to see her smile.
I woke up Saturday morning and went outside to get dad his paper. Everyone was getting ready for my Niece Abby’s birthday party. And I was amazed by the smell of the morning. I could smell the dew in the air and hope surrounded me. I was down because I was so unsure about my dad. I could see him fighting but yet I could see him fading. I needed a sign that it was going to be ok.
And the smell of the morning just hit me, sweet, powerful, strong. And I said my thanks to the Big Guy, brushed a tear from my face and moved on.
That was the only time I cried. It was one tear, but it was a powerful moment.
Everything may be better and I may get my father back at least to some extreme to the man that I know and love.
But everything may not be better and I have to be strong for my mother whose stress level, like mine, could pop at any second.
But I have to tell you a story about the trip down.
I was at the gate, flying standby as I have done for many times in my life, and was told by the “Rutti Tooty Fresh and Fruity Man” at the gate that I was 21st on the list and I should just leave and wait for the next flight.
I was scared. At one point I figured out, what I had to do so I could get my car, head to Hurst and be back in time to pick up the Vice President of my company at the airport tonight.
“I know you,” the other gate agent said as the other agent left for the plane to count seats.
“Hi, Sean, nice to meet you,” I said with a smile as I had come straight from work and I was in my Rock 101.1 jacket, shirt and hat.
“No, I really know you,” she said scratching her head.
“I’m just trying to get to my dad in Hurst whose just gotten out of the hospital, nobody important.”
“Really? Are you sure, I really think I know you,” she continued and I knew my own way to end the conversation was the obvious.
“I’m Sean from Rock 101.1,” I thought that maybe that’s where she knew me as I showed my jacket logo that was covered up by my overnight bag. I hate playing the Rock 101.1 card but sometimes it will get people to just say that’s it and leave me alone.
“Nope, but he’s right. It’ll take a miracle to get you on. You’re still a bit down on the list.”
“I’ll wait, and if you figure out where you know me from, I do travel on American a bit, let me know.”
As the time came closer to the plane door shutting, names were called for the last seat on the plane. The fresh male looked at me with distain as I waited patiently in eyesight of the counter close enough to run if needed be onto the plane.
One by one names were called and mostly families approached the stand. All turned down the one seat.
The male agent ran down to the plane to make sure that they had one seat left and the female agent looked at me.
“Someone is looking out for you son,” she said as the boarding pass started to print.
I grabbed the offered pass and walked down the jetbridge looking at the passing male agent with a smile.
Sometimes the best miracles, are the unexpected ones.
But the miracles, when you KNOW, they are going to happen, are much, much sweeter.
Is my family worried? Yes, I think we all see things that concern us as a family. But we will work through them, like we have worked though other hard times.
Our family is filled with fighters and Monday is our next test. Dad goes in to have the drains from the abcesses examined. Hopefully they can be removed.
All I want is a chance.
2 thoughts on “So you’re telling me I still have a chance…”
Remember which will you choose…God is really there for you..Love you mean it..
Nice that you got your seat – sometimes it does all work out.
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