Wednesday, September 15th

Hospice has been wonderful during this process. At first, I was not sure how beneficial having them around would be since we are blessed with the company of good friends day and night, but their presence is amazing. The aides and nurses are tender, sweet women who treat my dad as if he were their own.

We just finished bathing my dad with the help of the hospice aide. I have thought many times about how it never crossed my mind that I would become one of my dad's caregivers. I have always had the feeling of safety with my parents; I grew up seeing them as my protectors and caregivers. So, it was very difficult for me to begin taking care of my dad - especially helping him use the restroom for the first time. The next day I spent a lot of time, in tears, trying my best to process what we had just experienced together.

Now that day seems long ago. As time has gone on and the illness progressed, my duties as caregiver have increased. But today, while holding my father naked, the process seemed natural. I am not ashamed of my body - nor do I think nakedness taboo - but I feel in our culture today we often emphasize that our bodies should be hidden and private. I'm not saying one should flaunt it, but I have learned to appreciate more the wonderful body the Lord has given to each of us. I see it as a privilege to cradle my dad in my arms, kissing his arm while walking him through the process, and assuring him that I won't let go of him. There is nothing embarrassing or shameful about it. I'm simply doing my part to love him in the same way I know he would me.

I am sitting by my dad's bedside now. How strange it is for me to watch his chest; I stare closely and watch it rise and fall, then stop. I begin to count and the seconds continue to lengthen. How surreal these moments are, never knowing if it will be our last. He continues to open his eyes with a blank stare, not engaging with me as I speak to him. Some people believe in these moments that he is seeing into his next journey. I hope this is true. I hope he is experiencing something beautiful. I hope he is escaping from reality, even for a brief moment.

My mom is an amazing woman. She has been by my dad's side through the entire journey. I can not even begin to imagine the sorrow she must feel losing the love of her life. I wept this morning as I listened to her tell my dad what a wonderful man he is, how much she loves him, how no other man could take his place, how she will miss him, and that no matter what happens she will be okay.




For so long during this season we didn't want to talk to my dad about his illness or death. It would upset him and he would withdraw. Then, when he began to decline, he would often become agitated when we spoke of emotional or sentimental things because he could not communicate in return. But now, in his last days, we have to speak these words to him. It helps give us some sort of closure and hopefully encourages him and gives him peace.

I received another precious kiss this morning. As a child, each of my parents and I had a kissing pattern that we would do before bed. A few months ago I reminded him of this and he asked if we could resume our tradition. So we have, and this morning when he wanted to give me a kiss I soaked it in.

Kiss kiss kiss, hug hug hug, kiss kiss!