Learning something new each day

I wrote the following to a friend earlier today...it pretty well sums up where I am right now:

My last couple days have been much much better...as I pray about HOW to deal with everything, the Lord certainly guides me....though it's still not all fun & games, He opens my eyes to see what today's task is & things seem FAR less overwhelming...things are becoming doable again...even desirable. I feel like it's a whole other side of Christ to experience. He doesn't just GIVE us happiness & joy, but when He needs to, He leds us through the pains in front of us, one step at a time, to that happiness & joy. I've always assumed it was a one way or the other type deal, ya know? Like either you have the joy of the Lord, or you don't; and God hands it back to you when you don't. But I don't think that's it. I think He leds us back to it...He walks hand-in-hand with us, each step bringing us closer to our joy....He doesn't just snap His fingers and make us happy again, but He's our no-charge therapist who guides us back there! Each day brings a new task to complete, and each individual day may not seem to be making a difference, but when you see them all strung together, suddenly you see how far back up river Jesus has paddled you. I have a new task or two that my eyes have been opened to...and now they aren't scary like they were a week ago...I might even be looking forward to them.

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The last couple of nights I have made a HUGE dent in my continued and never-ending tasks around the house. That may not seem like a big deal, but considering that I took a 2 week hiadus(sp?) from it b/c I couldn't get motivated, IS a big deal. And I feel sooooooo much better...though there's still HOURS more work to be done.

I promised myself that each time I blogged I would write a scary memory, & a joyful memory of my time with my dad - this is something that I know will help me immensely to move forward & exchange my bad memories, with all the good ones.

So, the yucky one:

After a few days in the hospital & the possibility of my dad having had a heartattack (before we confirmed it), one of the nurses pulled me outside to talk to me. Any time they did this, my heart momentarily stopped. She basically gave me a run down on all the problems facing my dad's body...and there were many of them. She more-or-less told me he didn't have long...days, a couple weeks maybe. I was standing there by myself with this ICU nurse in front of me, and I was completely flabbergasted. This was the 1st of several times when we had this conversation.

I remember feeling helpless...hopeless. But then I couldn't resign to those feelings. I had spent the past year and a half pushing those feelings away and I WOULD do it again...my Daddy WOULD keep fighting, I would keep standing for him. But I walked back into his room & I think he just knew. He furrowed his brow, looked at me, and said. "what is it?" Though I couldn't understand him very well because of his BiPAP mask, so he wrote it out (which was probably harder to understand, lol).

I was at a loss for words. I stumbled over the words and my heart just sank. How the hell do you tell your own father that he's going to die?? How do you tell him when you can't even tell yourself?? And SHOULD I tell him & risk him giving up too soon, or do I respect him & give him all the information I know...something we agreed to do for each other. How do I tell my own Daddy the hardest thing he'll ever have to hear??...and how do I do it without falling apart?

He started asking, "Is it my heart? Is it my kidneys? Is it my blood? What is it?" The look I gave him probably said it all. And right then our nurse walked in. He pointed to his piece of paper with his question, and she answered. She honestly told him what was happening & the prognosis. Daddy nodded, and didn't say anything. I don't remember details after that...it was just too damn hard.

I was standing there the moment my father knew he was going to die.

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But there were many conversations before that one that I will forever treasure.

About a month before Daddy went into the hospital, shortly after I moved home, I ran into his room where he was sitting on his bed watching TV. I needed to talk because my stress levels were to the point of toxicity. I explained to him a situation I was facing with one of my professors who was insisting I take a final exam on schedule despite having signed an agreement to let me complete my assignments as I was able over a 3 month period. This exam fell about 10 days after I moved home & was going to be during the time that Daddy, Tacie, and I were in Houston visiting the MD Anderson cancer center....exams were the LAST thing I needed to worry about.

I was upset, angry even, that I felt such pressure, and for what?? For a deadline?? So that this professor could feel like I was "moving forward" with life, and "succeeding" despite my circumstances?? Because, as he explained it to me on several occasions, the world doesn't stop turning when our parents fall ill?? (he clearly didn't understand that I was a 25-year-old Daddy's girl, and my world WAS stopping)

When I explained all this to my dad he just shook his head. He said, "Honey, you're going to run into academia types throughout your life. In their eyes, the world revolves around dealines, papers, books, and exams. Too often they loose sight of what LIFE really is. You're experiencing real life stuff right now, I wish you didn't have to, but you are. But you have your priorities in line, honey. It's YOUR choice & your life, not his." He went on to tell me he supported me & it was ok with him if I dropped the class. His eyes were so sad as he apologized for "putting" me in this position...but he apologized even more that this professor was pressuring me when he shouldn't.

That memory has stayed with me. My dad SEEMED to be a man of rules at times in my life, but really...that was the complete opposite of him. My Daddy gave me the permission I didn't realize I needed to simply live LIFE...not stick my head in a book in order to make a grade which doesn't ACTUALLY mean jack-squat in the big scheme of things. He taught me one last time in that moment that being a good person is what makes you successful, not achiveing titles or making money....and he loved me unconditionally, no matter what choices I made. As well, we talked about the fact that I'm learning more in my therapy program from my own life, than I am from the books I read...I'm LIVING it, I'm facing, head-on, what many of my future clients will be facing. THAT is education...not a written exam.

That memory is especially important to me now as my life has been turned upside down. I have very big decisions to make in the coming months, decisions which will affect my life for the next few years, and longer. I'm considering taking a break from school until April?, June? for a year? As well, I'm considering moving out to Virginia and transferring programs...something Daddy would've had my hide for! But he would've done so b/c of the time/money involved...and I know, KNOW, in my heart that if he and I had discussed this in the past year, he would've said it's ok...perhaps even encouraged it for various reasons.

I needed that conversation soooooo badly with him, and it's a memory that brings me continued comfort, and healing, nearly everyday.

God gave me an amazing father...I honestly don't think I could've asked for a better Daddy. He wasn't perfect & drove me bonkers sometimes, but that man loved me through EVERYTHING. He supported me through EVERYTHING. He wasn't just my father, but he was truly an angel in my life.

~Jac