On Thanksgiving morning, my 94-year-old dad was taken by ambulance due to complications from an infection. He is still in the hospital and on his way to a full recovery. I couldn’t bring myself to write these last couple of days because, frankly, I’ve been on a rollercoaster of emotions. I initially feared the worst before they were able to stabilize him. Then we had to deal with the situation of not being able to visit him because of the pandemic, so we were limited to phone conversations with him. Some of the initial conversations with him were worrisome because he said many incredible, bizarre things. Once he started being himself again, and we realized the incoherence was due to the medication, I felt this huge relief.
I initially envisioned a much longer post to make up for the two I’ve missed. However, it’s too personal for the web and best reserved for the old-fashioned pen and paper of my journal. I still can’t see my dad because of this pandemic, but today I was so thankful to God that I could pick up the phone and talk to my dad.