Coming to Terms

Dad is 86 years old - I know so are a lot of other people. He believes God has given him 16 years past the 70 years that God promised him as a believer and dedicated worshipper of the Lord.  Has he given up - not by any means, but he has decided that the future is between him and God.  He refuses to die in a hospital, nursing home, or hospice and that is his decision to make. 

I talk to my Dad every day.  I don't see him every day, but either he calls me or I call him.  Sometimes just to say I love you.  There were many many years that we could not say those words to each other, but we are well past that.  He understands me probably better than even my children.  He doesn't like everything about me but loves me unconditionally.  Dad has never "let go" of either me or my sister and it's okay.

Plagued by blood clots for many many years and pretty sure of a blood clot in his right leg and possibly one in his left foot, he is not as mobile as he would wish.  He has resigned himself to moving as little as possible (up and down) and making do with the pain.  I am told he is even trying to be nice even though he is unhappy and uncomfortable. 

Knowing that his time may be short, I have gone through many emotions, reviewed my memories, and I am at peace with his decision.  This is not to say I am ready for him to go - I won't be ready for that in 10 or even 20 years.  I would like for him to be released from pain and the inability to live his life and he once did, but I know that we all face that at some period in life.  Am I saying goodbye?  Yes and no, I prefer to think I am just getting ready, but I don't really believe we are ever ready.  Dad has not been in good health for the last 5 years and I have adjusted myself to the fact that anytime I talk to him it could be the last. 

I am taking him some barbecue in just a while so I will see how he feels.  It doesn't matter at this point whether the pork is good for him or not, he loves it!

Thanks for dropping in to share this time and until next time  . . .

Happy reading!
Belle

Good Luck, Take Care

Good luck, take care
don't come close to what I want to say.
Stay safe, write home
are not the words to show the way.

Kevlar helmet in your hand,
Camos blend with the sand
Small in stature, but still a man
Going off to a foreign land.

A job, a dream
the one you've always had
A soldier with pride
the need to be just like your Dad.

Kevlar helmet in your hand,
Camos blend with the sand
Small in stature, but still a man
Going off to a foreign land.

Heavy heart, misty eyes
sleepless nights for the next year,
Sights unseen, horror galore
keep your Bible close to you my dear.

Kevlar helmet in your hand,
Camos blend with the sand
Small in stature, but still a man
Going off to a foreign land.

Come back, come back
that is what I want to yell,
Stay safe, take care
are the only words I tell.

Kevlar helmet in your hand,
Camos blend with the sand
Small in stature, but still a man
Going off to a foreign land.

Belle