Just a quick note—my blog will cover all kinds of things as time goes on, but right now this is where life has me. The past few months have been wrapped up in my dad’s final days and everything that came with it. So for now, I’m simply sharing my life and experiences as I’ve been walking through this season. These are just my feelings, observations, and opinions. Only mine.
Part 1 – Beginning of the End
The past few weeks have been surreal. I knew my dad was dying, but I didn’t realize just how fast it would happen. Each day felt like an eternity—watching him suffer. Praying for him to be released from this, and yet when it happened, it felt so quick. Where had the time gone? I wasn’t ready.
Since mid-July when I re-engaged, I made weekly trips to West Tennessee to stay with him and his wife. My oldest niece had been caring for him for the past two years since the last “dad-eruption” that caused distance. She had a family and a job as well, and yet was needing to care for dad—and she did it willingly and beautifully. But it was A LOT. So I started going over for one to two nights a week to give her a break and to help my dad’s wife.
Side note—my dad’s wife wasn’t really ever my “step-mom” because they married later in life, so there wasn’t any “raising” of me. When I say my “dad’s wife” I don’t mean any disrespect or unlove. It’s just there wasn’t that motherly element to it, and that was ok. I had a mother.
I watched my dad in a matter of five weeks go from being able to drive, talk on the phone, and mow the yard on his tractor—to being completely without the ability to walk, write, think, text, or talk. And in the last week and a half, he could not move himself even in the bed.
I watched him become trapped in himself, and that was heartbreaking. Here was a man that I loved throughout all his erratic and downright evil behaviors to me, my siblings, and our children, and I watched life leave him. Truthfully, it broke my heart. I understood finally how someone could make the choice to have assisted suicide—because seeing someone in that state… there are no words.
Yes, he did GREAT harm to my family mentally and sometimes physically, and yet my heart grew soft watching him suffer. He couldn’t go & do like before. He couldn’t even sit on the back porch without assistance to get out there and back. I grew soft toward my dad’s wife too, who cared for him day in and day out—trapped herself in those final months because dad didn’t want her to leave his side.
I had ALL the emotions in those weeks. Sadness, and yet so much anger. Anger is rare for me—I get frustrated, maybe short at times, but not this deep, burning anger. It came out as I cared for him. Because the reality was—he had not changed. Still prideful. Still unwilling to apologize or humble himself for the sake of relationships. Still harboring bitterness toward me & my siblings, still nursing the hurts he believed we caused him.
During one trip, I overheard him unloading those same resentments to my husband while I was in the next room, and it made me feel sick. I just wanted to run. But there I was, serving the man who had caused such harm to my family for most of my 51 years, and he had not truly changed. Just because he hadn’t changed still did not change the fact that I HAD changed. I’ll say this often but this wasn’t just about dad. It was but it was SO much bigger – my family, my children, my marriage, my siblings, my service to the Lord.
I think at times we read the bible and forget that those who served God and Jesus so loyally didn’t have sunshine and rainbows. Quite the opposite. Being obedient meant hardship and trials. Daniel whom the Lord highly favored was a slave. Peter and Paul were beaten and martyred while serving Jesus. Joseph was imprisoned and beaten unfairly after being accused of a lie by Potipher’s wife. I knew enough to know and trust that MY transformation required me to stay in the furnace so I stayed and I served.