Midnight

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:16-18)

It is midnight and I cannot sleep. The time for my dad is drawing nearer every moment. He no longer moves. He has not taken food or water for days. He sleeps most of the time; when he wakes it is usually for just a fleeting moment. As quickly as his eyes opens, they seem to close again.

I weep as I sit with him. I cannot imagine life without my father, and since I know my precious time is short I want to marvel in his presence. I want to be in his vision if, by chance, he opens his eyes during the night. I want him to feel safe. So I will sit here with his hand in mine, treasuring his every breath and his peacefulness.

My dad loved life to the fullest. He loved his friends and family desperately, and he marveled in the work of the Lord. One of our favorite places to visit is Silver Dollar City in Branson. We have traveled there countless times - I have many memories there as child, my sweet husband proposed to me there, and I was pregnant with Aubren during one visit. How fitting it is that Silver Dollar City was where my family traveled one month prior to my dad's diagnosis. It would be our last family vacation together.

Earlier today we recalled how the sheriff would always stand at the park entrance and greet visitors saying, "Howdy neighbor, welcome to Silver Dollar City!" We talked to my dad about what sweet memories flood our minds when we hear those words. Then I thought of the next greeting my dad wants to hear: "Well done, my good and faithful servant." What sweet and joyous freedom those words will bring.

I have been blessed with such gracious and hospitable parents; not only have they impacted their friends and community, but also mine. Throughout my teen and college years, my home was a refuge to many of my friends. It was like a home away from home. Even my community of girlfriends in adulthood have met my parents; and even though their visits have been short, they know them well enough to have experienced the kind of wonderful, loving, and faithful people they are. I am deeply blessed to have parents who have made such a positive impact on others. It has been an honor to brag about them and show them off to my friends throughout every stage of life.

My parents have loved others so purposefully through their life that now we find ourselves blessed with so many dear friends returning the favor. In these last days his friends have been constantly sitting with him, singing and reading scriptures over him, praying and weeping over him. Both he and my mom have poured their hearts into people and it is such an encouragement and comfort to feel that love returned through others.

I am scared. While writing these last few paragraphs, dad has stopped breathing 16 times. All I can do is sit and watch. He continues to open his eyes, but I am unsure if he is aware that I am here. I hope that he is. I know I can't predict when he will pass, but I desperately want for one of us to be here with him. I want him to see our faces if his eyes open. I want him to feel safe and loved when he slips away.

As I begin to drift off to sleep, it is hard not to wonder if he will wake in the morning.