Some things are just much bigger than us.

There are innumerable situations that we face throughout our lives that will humble us. Most of them are unpleasant. Something in our nature will have us rebel against anything that makes us feel small and insignificant. If we allow it, we can grow enormously from the worst of these times, or we can crumble.
As each day with dad being ill passes I find myself feeling less and less significant, I realise more and more that we are so not in control of anything of any great importance and so much of our lives are filled with such trivia it is beyond ridiculous.
As we moved into this glorious house I have been relentless in my pursuit to make it more glorious, I have been e.bay crazed and furniture obsessed. Not at all a bad thing, in fact a bit of a lovely and cheering thing, but not important. I guarantee that in my final moments I won't give a farting ferret about my somewhat grand TV cabinet or the fact that the boys have divine little armchairs all of their own.
I don't suppose I will even remember that I had my hair cut in a posh hairdressers twice in one year. None of it matters in the grand scheme of things.
Family matters. Always and eternally. You can't take your stuff with you but you sure as eggs can have your family. I know it. I have to do something about it and am remembering that just believing it isn't enough. I am lazy and have been enjoying the blissful state of not thinking about times to come.
Back to earth with a bang. Being at the hospital has done more to humble me than any other experience I have ever had. When push comes to shove you are forced to stare right in the face of what truly matters.
We still don't know what is the matter with dad and we are praying and hoping against hope that despite all the horror we will hear the news that this thing can be stopped. Inevitably, the thoughts come about what if. What is overwhelming is the fact that this man is SO loved. How marvellous that he knows it and we know he knows it. Even when he can't quite remember our names the very look on his face tells us that he still knows us and loves us. His thoughts are still all about how we are. Even when he whimpers in pain he follows it with " it's OK, I'm OK" he has been more demonstrative and openly loving than we have ever known him, which actually could be a worrying sign of we allowed it to be but we won't, it's what matters. No-one is remembering that he has always ben uncomfortable with hugging and kissing and handholding, he is being hugged and kissed and handheld at every opportunity and I do believe he likes it. I think he has always liked it, he just never quite new how to cope with it, good old morphine will snatch that old care away and being so poorly will help you say those words that hitherto have stuck in your gullet. He loves us, as if we ever doubted it, it doesn't hurt to hear him say it.
Funny thing, we are all his favourites too. I am his favourite, so are my other sisters and of course my brother is his favourite ( for real he's the only boy) Dan came down to visit him today and his first words were " oh my Daniel, I feel better for seeing you, you're my favourite you know"
Daniel wept when he saw papa and asked if he could just be on his own for a few minutes, as we walked away we saw him ( through a gap in the curtain) fall to his knees, put his face against papa's and his hand on his head, what we didn't know until afterwards was that he was praying with papa, papa's hand on his saying "oh it hurts but don't stop will you Dan....carry on Daniel" That's what matters, a 20 year old man feeling enough love to get on his knees on a hospital ward and pray with his papa.


I am humbled beyond words that I am the daughter of one of these men and the mother of the other. I have what matters and I have so much of it. I will probably never be able to show enough gratitude for such richness.