We take so much for granted. The strength to lift our arms, open our mouths, give a thumbs up, receive information and respond, smile, stick our tongue out. Sometimes bad things happen and I hear people blame God for allowing that to happen or not preventing it from happening, but ever thank God for those things you miss before they are taken? Does a diabetic thank God for their pancreas working properly before they become insulin dependent? Do we thank God for the way our body works everyday or do we just complain when it fails us? These are all rhetorical questions just meant to be pondered. I know I have a whole new appreciation for the ability to adjust myself in a chair, sit up, stand up, verbally communicate, move my head, move my arms, move my legs. But would my deep appreciation for these things be there if I hadn't seen what my dad is going through? I was a bit apprehensive about seeing him today, when we left last night he couldn't even open his right eye. I was grateful that he made it through surgery but I guess the reality of it all really hit me hard after I saw him. I wanted to go this morning but I was afraid of my reaction and how he would be and not wanting to be upset in front of him. We had some breakfast, packed some stuff for the boys and headed out to see him. When I got there, I was pleasantly surprised! He was sitting in a chair, he had both eyes open, he was moving his head, he would wave. He picked up a Kleenex and used it to wipe his eye. He nodded his head no when asked if I was Vanessa, he nodded his head yes when asked if I was Rachel. One of his neurosurgeons came in and asked him to say hi, you could see that he was trying but no sound was coming out. He was asked to smile and show his teeth, and he did that! A few times while we were there he pushed the recliner foot stool down and was moving forward like he was trying to get out of the chair. We had to buzz the nurse because he was persistent. All of this was very encouraging for me to see. He has always been like a dog with a bone, when he gets his mind made up - watch out world! (We are a lot alike in this regard) There is no doubt in my mind that once he gets through these next few weeks and gets started in rehab, his persistent, determined spirit - and all of us around him - will keep him going. I know he will over come this. My dad gives me hope. The proof is in these pictures - less than 24 hours after an extensive 5 hours surgery, less than 24 hours after suffering from a stroke, he is sitting up and trying to get up out of the chair. My dad is strong! My dad gives me hope. I love my dad so much!
We take so much for granted. The strength to lift our arms, open our mouths, give a thumbs up, receive information and respond, smile, stick our tongue out. Sometimes bad things happen and I hear people blame God for allowing that to happen or not preventing it from happening, but ever thank God for those things you miss before they are taken? Does a diabetic thank God for their pancreas working properly before they become insulin dependent? Do we thank God for the way our body works everyday or do we just complain when it fails us? These are all rhetorical questions just meant to be pondered. I know I have a whole new appreciation for the ability to adjust myself in a chair, sit up, stand up, verbally communicate, move my head, move my arms, move my legs. But would my deep appreciation for these things be there if I hadn't seen what my dad is going through? I was a bit apprehensive about seeing him today, when we left last night he couldn't even open his right eye. I was grateful that he made it through surgery but I guess the reality of it all really hit me hard after I saw him. I wanted to go this morning but I was afraid of my reaction and how he would be and not wanting to be upset in front of him. We had some breakfast, packed some stuff for the boys and headed out to see him. When I got there, I was pleasantly surprised! He was sitting in a chair, he had both eyes open, he was moving his head, he would wave. He picked up a Kleenex and used it to wipe his eye. He nodded his head no when asked if I was Vanessa, he nodded his head yes when asked if I was Rachel. One of his neurosurgeons came in and asked him to say hi, you could see that he was trying but no sound was coming out. He was asked to smile and show his teeth, and he did that! A few times while we were there he pushed the recliner foot stool down and was moving forward like he was trying to get out of the chair. We had to buzz the nurse because he was persistent. All of this was very encouraging for me to see. He has always been like a dog with a bone, when he gets his mind made up - watch out world! (We are a lot alike in this regard) There is no doubt in my mind that once he gets through these next few weeks and gets started in rehab, his persistent, determined spirit - and all of us around him - will keep him going. I know he will over come this. My dad gives me hope. The proof is in these pictures - less than 24 hours after an extensive 5 hours surgery, less than 24 hours after suffering from a stroke, he is sitting up and trying to get up out of the chair. My dad is strong! My dad gives me hope. I love my dad so much!
1 comment:
There are no words to describe how proud
of you and your siblings this grandpa feels!
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