If I think really hard.....

....I might just find a glimmer of hope in there somewhere. Dad wasn't any worse today, and that as things stand, is as miraculous as it gets. Yesterday was aa tough one for me, I couldn't get in to see him until the evening and heard from those who had been to see him that he was very poorly. I drove over just to kiss him goodnight and found him asleep, looking so cosy after mum had been. When we were little and poorly she would do this magical thing with our pilows, she would make a nest and settle us in it. He was in his nest, curled on his side surrounded by pillows, swollen legs and feet as supported and comfy as possible. I sat next to him and just allowed myself to remember being 7 and being the chosen one to go with him to Wales. Sleeping in the cab of a hired truck, delivering someone else's furniture. 2 whole days, just my dad and me.
If we woke in the night we learned very young that the person to call for was daddy, mum is profoundly deaf in one ear and she would sleep on the good ear, the perfect recipe for a sound nights sleep in a house full of children!! He was never grumpy if we woke him up, always kind and ready to scare the ghosts away. Just the sort of person any child would need in the middle of the night.
I sat next to him and he woke with a start......" Oh, who are you? Oh wait" ( closed his eyes again) " oh wait, oh yes...hello sweetheart" What a fight for him to wake up, but he STILL wasn't grumpy, still ready to be what I needed him to be.
Today he was quite chipper, struggling to remember who we were and admitting that he is seeing double...eyes as wide as he can get them in order to try and focus. I took the 3 boys in to see him today, he was thrilled, he showed them his owies (which when you are 2, 4 and 5 is quite the best thing ), lots of "0h poor papa" and stroking of swollen feet. I felt they had to see him because when they last saw him he was Papa, the same as he has always been and they have been without me so much while I visit him, they couldn't have understood that papa was poorly, now they have seen and understand that he is in the hospital and are happy that he is being cared for.
I saw him today and felt the tiniest glimmer of hope that having been so ill for 12 days, maybe, just maybe, he can just stay the same for another day and then we may have some answers, maybe there will be something that can be done to help him. If he can just not get any worse.
When I left him with mum for a few minutes, apparantly he cried , sobbed, and said that he was so worried about her, told her she was stubborn and must let people help her. He told her that 'Helen is a good girl, she will help you, she'll be there for you and can help', touchingly, he said " if she asks you if you want a sausage casserole, say no thankyou but can you have a chicken one" !! I have no idea why he thought I would offer her a sausage casserole!! What matters though is that he knows I am here to help and how uplifting to know that even as ill as he is, he knows I will look after her.
It's very good to be able to talk freely with mum, I feel closer to her than ever before and she said something so wise today. She was saying how all our lives we are taught that the ultimate goal is to return to our Father in Heaven, to live this life in such a way that we can show Him that we have faith and a true belief that He is there and loves us. We say we believe that this life is merely a step towards the next one, a chance to progress and learn, grow and go on to the next step. She said how she hopes that she and dad have done just that and yet, she said, why is it that when someone we love appears to be on the threshold of that very next step, just as they seem to be close to moving on, we feel we have to do everything to fight it, everything to stop it happening, even if staying here means pain and suffering?
We spoke last week about the fact that everyone I have seen die, I have noticed that even in the very midst of what would appear to be a physical hell, those people have always been so serene. I have often thought that while many are bitter and ask why God would allow such suffering and wonder why He lets it all happen, I have felt that actually the people suffering most are the ones watching. All the people I have seen near death have had such a peace around them, such a calm and restful sort or aura, even when in pain, somehow their spirits are peaceful. I knew one man who was dying that wasn't at peace, who was miserable and fighting and almost in hell, he is the only person I met that hadn't and wouldn't accept he was dying.
I wonder if the spirit goes ahead of the body? When I visit dad and he is asleep, or if he is resting and peaceful, when disturbed he seems literally to be dragging himself back from somewhere and it's such hard work. His eyes open and it's almost as if he isn't there, it is possible to see a physical struggle to 'come back' and I feel so guilty for having brought him back from wherever he was that was so peaceful, so restful and so comforting.
Dad has always lived with fear, none of us know what he is afraid of, he doesn't know himself, but he wakes every morning afraid of what the day may bring. I have long been so proud of the fact that even though he is so afraid of so much, he still gets on and does it, lives life and has never held any of us back because HE was frightened ( except mum, who would have tried many things and taken many risks if dad had only agreed!). It's astonishing to me to see how unafraid he is now. I think the angels are holding his hand. I don't think for a moment, not even a second, he is alone. That is an enormous comfort to me. Actually, today, I don't even have to think very hard to find that glimmer of hope and a realisation that whatever happens, he will be fine.