Monday, March 31, 2014

Catching kisses

I pulled out into my country drive-way this afternoon, and my little girl flashed across the backyard on her way to the swing.  Her "little red riding hood" coat swung against bare legs tucked in rainboots, and she flashed a grin devoid of front upper teeth before she blew a kiss for me to take with me.

I captured that kiss and flung one back to her heart.

We blow kisses now, and save them for the crazy days when we might know nothing at all.

I spent the afternoon with my father at the heath center (nursing home) where he has been for two weeks.  He's been having some crazy nights, where he doesn't sleep and his still-mechanically-driven mind drives him to take apart everything in his room. 

In the hospital he ripped out his iv and his catheter.  In the health center, he took apart the television set and ripped off his electronic tether.

He had a particularly bad night last night;  he wandered the halls and kept everyone else awake.  He insists upon shoes at all times, but he can't remember how to tie them and sometimes he even forgets his pants and one sock.       

He is in a state of unbalanced adrenals.  It affects him in bizarre ways.  Some days are awful, some are alright.    Today he was clothed and upright when I entered his room.  He might not have been able to recall my name, but he still knew that I was his girl and when I wrapped him up in my arms he melted like my little child. 

I sat beside him and held his hand, lifted his flannel shirt and mismatched polyester plaid slacks to check his arms and legs for swelling.  He could not tell me how he felt. "Can't say...you'll have to ask someone else..." but as I stayed beside him on his bed he said, "Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." (Psalm 19:14, NASB)

We played a game we've played thousands of times.  He couldn't remember how to play, but expressed frustration that I couldn't follow the rules.  It didn't bother me in the slightest, as it's just like playing with my 3-year-old son.  Who cares where the marbles go?  Are we having a good time together?  Checkers also confused him, so we just stacked them.

We walked the halls.
We went to therapy.
We sat and watched the birds at the bird-feeder, where he marveled that some birds were faster learners than others.
He could not remember how many children I have (nine, Dad...) but he could tell me the name of every member of his great-grandfather's family and how many children they each had. 

We sat, and I just held his hand for a long time... because I could and because he is still here.

His hand is still warm.  This won't always be.  One day, I will touch his hand and it will be cold; and that will be the end of such times on this earth.  When that day comes, I will mourn, but it will in no way be the end.  Dad has not been perfect, nor have I; but we both love Jesus and He is our Lord.  We will have a lot of time in the Life to come.  Still, I store up love for the days to come, when he is no longer here:  hugs, hand-holding, and kisses.

I hugged him goodbye; he laid his head on my shoulder and I think he would have just stayed there.  I know that  it is not considered proper to compare the elderly to children.  For my father, it is appropriate.  He has become much like one of my littlest children. 

I threw a good-bye kiss from the door.  He smiled and bid me safe-travels.  His smile, missing the front teeth, is just like my little girl's.  I caught that too, and stuck it in my heart...for he and I are in the crazy days.

I do not miss the reality that each one of us is one burst vessel away from catastrophe, one slight medical misstep from forgetting our pants or which way to the bathroom.  I can barely stay on my feet (from the need to kneel before Jesus) with the paucity of my own strength and how quickly life flees.  Too soon, that gappy-toothed girl and the three-year old who clings to me as I walk in the door will be returning the favors I've done for my dad.  I hope they're okay with simply hugging me and holding my hand because it's still warm when the time comes. 

Catch those kisses and tuck them in tight. 
xoxo

7 comments:

  1. Oh Holly - you know how to bring tears - just honesty about life - very touching.

    Rhonda

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  2. Oh, Holly. So hard and yet so beautiful because it's truth and it's real and it's rich even in the hard. Love you dearly, Holly.

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  3. So sweet and so touching. I love how you capture your thoughts.

    *hugs*

    Praying for you and your family.

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  4. Yes. All I can say is Yes. God has gifted you in so many ways, Holly, and the most beautiful part of it is that you know it is all from Him. You glorify Him, i.e. give a correct opinion of Him, in your life. Thank you for the encouragement that is to the rest of us.

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  5. Thank you so much, my friends. Thank you for seeing my heart. <3 Thank you for being here!

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  6. Hey Holly, I would have commented sooner, but all these new options muddle me. I finally figured it out.

    I love what you've written here. As always, my words are inadequate to say what I mean. Please keep expressing yourself.

    I liked the recipes too, btw.

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    1. Thank you, Sweet Sara. I haven't checked comments in forever. Well, until today. :)

      When I posted the recipes I thought I could handle doing so - but then dad's decline accelerated and I could not keep up. I went ahead and took them down.

      Dad died last week.

      Love you still, Sara!

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