Honor thy father

Early tomorrow morning, my father will be wheeled into an operating room, his chest will be opened up and his heart  will be exposed. His physical heart. He's been through this twice before but this time he is older, sicker and the risk is much greater. And while this scene plays out, my heart is aching. My emotional heart. We are separated by hundreds of miles and our only connection is a telephone in my stepmother's hand.  When I heard of this approaching surgery, I wanted to be on the next available flight to my father's side. But he asked that I stay at home where I could pray and wait for a phone call.I am certain there have been many times in my life when I have chosen not to honor my father or his request, but this time I will do so. I don't want to honor his request. I don't want to wait for that precious phone call. I want to be near him, where I can do nothing to help and nothing to change the situation. I know this but "there" is still where I desire to be. I am sure my father's surgeon is top notch and I am confident he will work to the best of his ability as he does for all his patients. I  understand that a surgeon's job is to know his patient with regard to health, to know what his own limitations and talents as a doctor are, with regard to that health. But does he know that the man he will be operating on is someones husband and father and grandfather? Does he understand that his patient is not just someones father, but MY father? Does he know that if things don't go well, a huge void will be left in my life?  Does he know that my father is all I have left of my childhood? When my father is gone from this Earth,there will be no one else to  remember my childhood except me. My mother died much too young and my siblings choose not to have contact with our family. So it's just me and dad and our memories. I'm not ready to cling to those memories all alone just yet. 

I suppose I was always a bit of a "daddy's girl". Maybe it was because my mother and I didn't have a very good relationship or maybe it was just destined. It's entirely possible my father  doesn't even know I consider myself to be "daddy's girl"?!! But  I've always known. When I think back to my childhood, my teens and even adulthood, it's always the memories with my dad that come to mind. He's the one who taught me to ride my bike, drive a car and balance a checkbook. He's the one who taught me to love yard work, picnics, camping and walks in the woods. He's the one who walked me down the aisle. And when I came back to him, he walked me down the aisle a second time and made me promise not to return!! He's the one I get my sense of humor from.

He and I have much in common. It's always been that way. We both love to read, write and talk. We are both poor listeners because we have far too much to say. We both enjoy getting  in a car to drive aimlessly, discovering new places. He and I are very orderly and organized. We each have a "manager" personality as we have been reminded more than once! We both have diabetes. We both sprinkle sugar on our chili ( hence, the diabetes?) And we both love my stepmother, his wife. (She is entitled to a post all her own)

Despite all of our similarities and all of our memories, I had never heard my father say he loved me. I know he loves me but I'd never heard him say it out loud. It was just something we never said in our family, it was always assumed. The last time I spoke to my dad, a couple of days ago, I took that giant leap. I put my heart out there and risked pain or disappointment. Just before I hung up, I  softly said " I love you dad". He softly said " I love you too"!! One more memory to cling to together.......

I believe in God. And I am trusting him to watch over my father and his exposed heart tomorrow. And I am trusting him to watch over mine. I love you dad.