"My grace is sufficient for you..."

What a week! I don't even know where to begin, nor whether or not I have the emotional energy and mental organization needed to record my thoughts. We'll see how it goes.

Right now I am taking a much needed break. Starbucks didn't have good Wi-Fi so I walked down to Panera Bread with my white chocolate raspberry mocha and reluctantly ordered a scone. The latte is already too sweet, so I'll just save it for later. The atmosphere is way more comfortable here anyway, what with the cozy leather chairs and fireplace just a few feet away. It's finally sunny, the snow is melting, and it feels good to just sit and breathe.

Wow. Caring for a terminally ill parent is more than draining. I am exhausted just about every minute of the day. Since arriving here a week ago I have woken up early and gone to bed late. I feel pulled in two directions: 1. sit with Dad; 2. pitch stuff and organize the house. I could spend every minute of the day with my dad and I would, except that he tends to nap a lot. And even during those times I would linger and watch him sleep and pray over him, but that is prime time to work on the house. And I have only scratched the surface in that regard. You think you've got a pack rat family!

On top of everything, family members have been in and out, painting walls and repairing this and that and, while I cannot express how grateful I am for their help on behalf of my parents, I presently don't have the ability to deal with many people all at once. I almost feel like I picked the wrong time to travel to Minnesota because of all the activity. I'm struggling to deal with everything going on with my dad, and at this point I can't handle much more than that. Most likely, these are my last days to spend with my dad. We don't expect him to live more than a few more weeks, and we just can't afford to keep traveling back and forth like this. It is not ideal to live so far away with circumstances as they are, but we're just doing the best we can, and life has to go on. The house can wait, and my other relatives can wait, as much as some may disagree.

I did, however, get to meet my niece, Scarlett last week. What a doll! My brother and his wife came during the height of all the "clean sweep" pandemonium, and between everyone wanting to hold her, paint fumes, and the influenza quarantine at my dad's care center, the visit wasn't all it could have been. I am sort of disappointed, but we will get to see them again in a couple months when we come out for Memorial Day week. As things look, we may be coming out for a funeral between now and then, but I can't assume anything until it has happened. I got some pictures with Scarlett, but I haven't had a chance to upload them yet. The little tyke and I are going to be the best of friends. We are bonding already with the whole Gone With the Wind theme. She is Scarlett, and I am Scarlett's plantation, Tara. I know, I know....it's a stretch, but hey.

Believe it or not, the most draining aspect of this whole trip has been simply sitting with my dad. That will wear you out! It has been difficult just looking at him because he has lost so much weight. He is literally skin and bones, and it is heart-wrenching to know it is only going to get worse. Dad hasn't had an appetite since before his surgery last month, and on top of that he is nauseated. The care center nurses recently offered to give him an anti-nausea pill a half hour before meals, but they keep forgetting to get it to him on time, and only give a bunch of excuses when we remind them. But eating is the only thing that is going to keep him alive, and I am so frustrated with the nurses failing to do their job like that! I'm not going to be here more than another week and can't hold their hand. And I shouldn't have to. Nobody should. Gratefully, we finally talked my dad into receiving hospice services, which is actually a huge relief because the hospice nurse can serve as an advocate for him and take care of many of these kinds of things. They aren't kidding when they say hospice is just as much for the patient as for the family!

I have never felt so helpless as I have watching my dad throw up. One time he took one bite of cauliflower and couldn't keep it down. I had to hold the waste basket as he struggled to relieve the wave of nausea. It was the worst thing in the world. Thankfully, he hasn't had much of any other pain, which is absolutely God's mercy. Dad is groggy most of the day due to all the medication, and always extremely weak, but no pain. My grandfather died of bone cancer in the late 1970's, and you couldn't breathe on him or he would moan and wince in excruciating pain. My grandma couldn't even shuffle papers anywhere near him or his ears would pound. Not so with my dad. In spite of everything, that fact is a blessing, and I pray that God would continue to sustain him pain free until the very end.

Meals are the most difficult. He says he never thought he would dread mealtime. He used to love food. He remained lean throughout his life, despite eating three and four helpings at a time! Now he can't stomach even his normally favorite foods. My mom and I have supplemented his meals with other foods in case he can't eat what's on the menu. We listen intently for anything that might cue a food craving of any kind. When someone is this sick and this weak, they are encouraged to eat as much of whatever they can get down and keep down, the more caloric the better. If he mentions a food even randomly, you go with it. Canned fruits and Jell-O seem to do the trick, but he has also requested boiled potatoes, Coca Cola, vegetable beef soup, grapes, and even root beer floats, believe it or not! In fact, he would eat root beer floats all day if he could, but he knows he needs to focus on protein and nutrients as well. Yet it relieves me when he stops eating not because he feels sick, but because he is full! Those are very good moments!

Still, my dad is frustrated most of the day. He can't stand to be groggy and weak. He knows he will never get his muscle back, saying he can't stand to look at himself in the mirror. I tell him nobody says he needs to. He doesn't really complain, but he does express what he is feeling, which, as hard as it is, I think is a good thing. He feels at his worst just after waking up from a nap, and he sleeps probably half the day as it is. One time he woke up for dinner and told me, "I wish the Lord would just take me now." And then we got to talking and he perked up quite a bit. Reminiscing and asking him questions about his life or an interest of his seems to take his mind off his condition. He does very well with visitors and often brings out his well-known dry sense of humor. Then he grows tired again, though, and he's back down in the "pit". One night after a very encouraging conversation, out of the blue he said, "You know, it would really lift me up to know I was going to get better." I simply did not know what to say to that so I just left it. I can't disagree, and I can't discount his emotions. This is tough stuff.

His highs and lows are many every day, but I am so glad he isn't satisfied with the lows, because he never stays there. He will freely talk about his illness to anyone, telling it how it is. A few weeks ago my brother asked Dad if he had been sharing his faith with the nurses and others in the care center, because my dad has always been evangelistic, and a great example to me at that. In response to the question he paused, shook his head, and admitted no, he had not spoken of the Lord to anyone. Since then, however, he told me he has witnessed to more than a dozen people! He realizes that because of his condition he has an all-ears audience. We are so encouraged that he is able to glorify God by way of his testimony in this way. Who knows where these many seeds will land?

I've got to ditch out of Panera at the moment. Jeromy is flying in this afternoon, and my aunt Bev is going to stop by the care center around the same time. This has been such a needed break, and I feel refreshed and ready to go about the rest of the day and week. I have left a prayer hanging in the air for God to sustain me every moment I am here, and when you rely upon and really look for those answers to prayer, you find them over and over! This week has been so very hard, but God has been so good through it all, and He has strengthened my faith and trust. I am not surprised, but I normally get discouraged about life so quickly that I refuse to turn to God. Trusting is risky business, because in trust we are not promised an easier road. Yet in some crazy way, when we decide to trust, God gives us the specific grace we need for the moment. I only wish I would risk more and trust more, but my faith is most often as weak as my dad's physical being.

It has done my spirit good to write today.