The house faces a large pasture with Mount Adams as a backdrop. As I watch our neighbor, out in the fields at dawn, move his irrigation pipes I think of how much he reminds me of my dad. It has been difficult to think of writing these last few months. Since January (maybe before?) Dad has been telling us he has felt a bit tired. My mom passed away five years ago and since then my dad has continued to live on their 100 acre ranch. He busied himself with remodeling the barn so that in addition to caring for his own horses he could take in boarders. As early as last summer he put in a fence, digging his own fencepost holes. So what was up with this tiredness even if he was eighty-seven and deserved a rest?
His doctors keep a good eye on him. A bout with prostate cancer requires he get frequent PSA tests. At a suggestion that he check with his doctor he reassures us he will at his next visit. He prefers, though, to improve on his eating habits, (the Starbuck’s apple fritter stays) and asks my sister to recommend a high-energy diet. At his next doctor’s appointment he casually asks, “When did I last have a stress test?” He confides that he has felt a bit winded, now has trouble walking from the barn to the house. His doctor orders an EKG and tells Dad that he has thrown him a curve ball. His EKG indicates he is in AFIB, something my sister and brother have been diagnosed with. But an echocardiogram shows he also has an aortic valve that is just about closed off. He is in heart failure.
A little over three weeks ago Dad had open heart surgery for a valve replacement. Today they finally moved him from ICU to PCU – Progressive Care Unit. Two days after his very successful surgery (he has a very excellent heart surgeon) he suffered a 3cm stroke to the left basal ganglia part of his brain. His cognitive thinking is not affected, though he does have trouble finding the words he needs. The doctor says this is aphasia and it will improve. His right side, though a little weak at first, is gaining strength. When I hold his hand, he squeezes.
When he leaves the hospital he will go to one of the best stroke rehabilitation centers in the country where he will prepare to return to his home. It will take a lot of hard work on Dad’s part, but I told him that all of my life I have never known him to shy away from that. He has too many things still to do.
So my writing has been on hold. I feel so impatient to have a manuscript that is ready to present to a publisher, but God is in control. He has reminded me what is important. Family. Love. Connection. Exactly what I have been weaving into my novel. Perhaps I will be able to return to it with an even deeper undestanding. God has not forgotten me. I have his promise from Philippians 1:6. He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Jesus Christ.
Oh, and a bit more about Dad&Me;: When I was young, he and I loved to arm wrestle. I was a bit of a legend in my family because everyone thought I was so strong. But not really. I just wanted to be like my dad, and he was strong! And he wasn’t a quitter. He would let me press and press while he held his arm upright. Then he would allow me to s l o w l y push his arm over, almost to the table. Then his arm would stop. He would grin at me as I would go rigid, then he would bring my arm back up and over. Arrgh. I don’t think I ever did win. But I was always amazed at his strength and determination. And it is that strength and determination that will allow his body to heal and bring him home. I love you Dad.