At exactly 5:20am this morning, I woke up from a dead sleep and stood straight up by my bed. I’m talking about the kind of sleep where the drool has met your hair. 🤮 I grabbed my phone and I saw 3 missed text messages where the last one said “help”. My heart dropped as I woke Preston and had him call my sister in law to have my brother meet me at our Pops. My biggest fear is walking in and finding him in a way that I can’t handle. My mind was reeling in what could have happened in the 15 minutes since the SOS call went out. I threw some pants on and out the door I went, Pebbles hair and all.
Pop was waiting on us at the kitchen table. He needed to go to the Emergency Room. We head out to to get him seen. He’s got a touch of pneumonia and was admitted and transferred to another hospital. Chaotic day to say the least.
About 7 hours into all this, I looked down at my wardrobe. I’m still wearing the shirt I wore to bed last night and Pebbles looks more like Medusa. I have bright socks on that match nothing I’m wearing. And…… wait for it——
My pants are on backwards.
2 hospitals, a cafeteria, a dozen nurses, a multiple respiratory therapists, 2 doctors, 1 hospitalist, 3 phlebotomists, and 2 custodians have seen my wardrobe malfunction. I’m mortified.
Later, as Pop was settled in his hospital bed, he wanted to talk. He kept thanking me profusely for what my brothers and I do for him in times like this. It’s simply what our family does.
We recently got him an Apple Watch and phone because of the fall detector feature on it. He’s still learning how to use it and is full of questions every time he sees me. Even this afternoon. Most of the time, it’s the same questions over and over.
As I sat there today and patiently showed him how to go through his contacts and delete people for the 3rd time in a 30 minute time span, I saw how blessed I am.
Two weeks ago, a heard a man at church give his testimony about him and his daughter. I was touched, because I realized that my daddy has that same look on his face when it comes to me. Although Pop is my best friend now, it wasn’t always that way. I had cut Pop out of my life for many years. Hardness and bitterness ruled my heart until Jesus Christ came in and replaced it with forgiveness and love. For the last 20 years, Pop and I have been making up for lost time, and grow closer with each passing day.
Last weekend, I spent an evening with just Pop and my brother. What happened in the man cave will stay in the man cave. But I know this, I love my Pops and my brothers. Our bond is unbreakable. God has been good to me.
Some people ask me how I can say that God is has been good to me when I’ve endured so much heartache and loss. The answer is simple, because in all the loss, heartache, and grief, I’ve learned that this is NOT my home. I’m just passing through. Something much better awaits me. A place that has no sorrow. No pain. Pure joy. And I’ll rise on an eagle’s wings! I can not imagine such a place. But I know that it awaits me one day.
Friday, I had a client send me an email with some requested information. In her closing, Dr.Dominguez-Rucker told me to “have a good day- on purpose”.
Have a good day- on purpose.
This afternoon, in all the chaos of me looking like a homeless muffin topped ninnymuggin rushing from one hospital to another, I was reminded of Dr. Lori Dominguez-Rucker’s words. Life is like that, we choose how we react to our circumstances.
I chose to sit back in that hospital recliner of Room 422, and count my blessings with every wheeze that came from Pop. Every day that I have left with him, is an honor and a treasure. Parkinson’s is taking a toll on him, and he is often hard for me to understand on bad days, but I know one thing, the eyes say more than the tongue ever will.
Who’s ready to have a good day- on purpose?
The beancounting daughter
PS: Dr. Lori, thank you for your words of wisdom. God knew that I would need your reminder today.