I've been able to talk with my dad about a twice a day. He sounds weak but OK. Tonight he seemed a bit down. I think the magnitude of what he has experienced is setting in and the road to full recovery feels a bit long. Plus, the post-op pain is not so fun. He did get up out of bed and was actually able to go to the bathroom, a huge step for him. Getting the oxygen tube out and other tubes disconnected has made a big difference but he feels shaky. He needs to start eating now and after not really eating anything of substance for 11 days, this feels pretty hard. He's not hungry but also knows that he needs to start getting some food in his system.
I don't know what the plan is for how long he'll be in the hospital and then what things will look like once discharged. We're in wait and see mode. We truly appreciate your prayers for his healing, both physically and mentally as he prepares to face the road to recovery. I'm of course, torn once again, about being so dang far away. So I appreciate your prayers for my peace of mind as well.
On a brighter note, my favorite wild flowers starting appearing in the park where I walk Tanner in the morning. It always amazes me to see these first bursts of color after the fallow winter. The lawn looks totally dead, devoid of life and then out of no where, these beautiful, delicate flowers pop up. It's so fascinating to me that they lurk below the surface waiting for enough warmth and light to pull them up year after year. Always, they represent the joy and wonder of new life but this year it feels especially meaningful. The beauty of these small flowers has given me hope that out of a seemingly dead landscape, comes amazing, beautiful, new life. The wildflowers have provided me with encouragement in the midst of this uncertain journey with my father. There are things going on beneath the surface that will lead to health and well-being even though I cannot see these things at this time. I do trust that God is present with both of us, bridging the gap that the global distance creates, but I really do miss being nearby during these times of difficulty and illness. That said, I remain ever grateful for the community of care that exists for each of us on both sides of the vast pond that separate this daughter from her father right now.