Tuesday, May 24, 2011

How Soon We Are Put to the Test

{ Excerpts from my journal }

17 December 2009 Thursday

Mom calls me from the hospital sobbing. "He's irascible and mean. He says I'm stubborn and unforgiving. He's yelling at me and at the nurses. He tried to walk out of the hospital but the nurse finally told him he has wires inside him all the way to his heart that the doctor must remove first, and if he leaves his insurance won't pay for anything."

Way to bully the bully, Nurse Ratched.

Somehow I know that what my Mom needs is for me to take charge and tell her what to do. She and Aubrey do this for me when I call in hysterics.
"Pull it together, Mom," I demand. "You know this is up and down. You know who Dad is and you are dealing with him under the worst circumstances of his life. Don't act like it's falling apart. You get it together and be there for him. Just let it roll off right now, and give him time to make changes."
She calms down, "Okay, okay, you're right."

They have been waiting all day to be discharged from the hospital and my Dad is desperate to see the kids before we leave for Utah.

Chani comes over and we all make a "WELCOME HOME" sign for Dad. We start a fire. Clean the house.
Eventually they get home. Dad is wonderful with the kids. He shaves his beard and mustache first thing. He looks DIFFERENT. I have never seen his hairless face. It is part of his new self he says.
Cecily and Caroline sit in his lap, as they did the night he left for the hospital. We have come full round, bringing countless stitches, weakened bodies, and stronger spirits with us. He is finally at peace, eating the best smoothie of his life and holding grandkids.


aubtobobtolob said...

Grand kids where one of his finest "at peace" moments in this world.

Les said...

Hi Jessica,

I've been so behind, I'm just getting to these journal posts. I'm sitting now alone in a hotel room in Santiago, never having known your father, and I'm a mess, wiping my eyes at the humanity on display here.

Thank you for sharing. So heartbreaking, and so much beauty.

JaeReg said...

Thank you Les.

I have been unable to move on as far as writing is concerned. I am grateful to be a journal keeper and to have had it with me during those days at the hospital. I wish I had more. I wish I had video, voice recording. I wish I had him.

Pull out of your parents what you want from them right now. Record what you would like to see or read as well as what you want your boys to see, One of the hardest things for me is thinking that my younger two kids will have no memory of my Dad.

Anyway, thank you for reading.