Parents

Recently I told someone I had won the parent lottery.  And that is really an understatement.  My parents are amazing.  They have lead with patience, courage and dedication a family that did not always appreciate what it had.  As kids we often lamented our lack of designer clothes or the fact that we lived in a mobile home.  I have often jokingly told how after college my parents had re-designed the room I had shared with my younger sister to have only one bed so I was relegated to the driveway in a camping trailer designed to fit on the back of my father's pickup truck.  But in reality I have always had a place to come home to.  In the darkest of nights by mom and dad have been the solid beacon of light leading to safe harbor.  They have remained constant in a world full of tsunamis and hurricanes. 

Three years ago I left an abusive relationship about the same time my dad was diagnosed with cancer. True to dad's style he downplayed his own issues so that I could focus on my healing.  Who knows how many times he put me first.  I got the shoes while his socks got darned and were worn inside shoes that he had resoled himself.  As I was finally landing on my feet and feeling solid, Mom told me that his cancer was getting worse.  His numbers were up and they had to stop the "watchful waiting" and begin a more aggressive treatment.  That started about 4 months ago.  I took my children to see him and he looked healthy.  He acted healthy and he played off the treatment as routine.  Then yesterday I asked him how he was doing and my sweet, wonderful, strong dad said..."He was right with God and that was really all that matter".  I heard for the first time in 41 years the humanness of my father.  He worries, he prays, he fears, he feels.  When faced with the frailty of his own life he is content to know he has served his Father and that he is right with the Lord.  If you don't know my dad that is his way of saying he is okay if it is his time to go home. But for the record I am not ready!  So not ready!  I need more Dad hugs, and special moments where I am the one he calls to fix his computer because I am the more patient teacher type.  I need more stories and more popcorn and more Christmas mornings singing Happy Birthday to Jesus. But that is not the guarantee it is just the hope.  So Dad I guess I am good with God too and if you go...will you watch for me and then when I come home in a few years...do you think maybe you could give me one of those great dad hugs and introduce me to our maker! 

I love you!