I had to run to the grocery store today. On the way home a catchy song
came on the radio and I started to snap my fingers and bounce along with
the song. Suddenly, I froze, guilt washed over me. 

Is it ok to be happy? To feel joy with Daddy suffering in the hospital? 

As silly as that may sound, the guilt was real. I woke up sad today. I’ve
had a few days reprieve. The updates from my sisters have stopped. Part
of me thrilled, and part of me felt guilty for being relieved. I don’t know
the ‘right’ way to behave in all of this. I worry that I’ll be perceived as not
loving my parent’s enough, if I don’t act the way my sisters believe I should.  

I called Mom today, for the first time in about three days. I tried calling her
a couple of times, but each time I picked up the phone my stomach knotted.
I put the phone down…more guilt.

Lord, I’m trying to implement what You are teaching me about ‘not letting
my heart be troubled’. It’s hard, new information. I’m used to worrying,
carrying all the burden, guilt and condemnation. But that’s not honoring
You and what Jesus did for me at the cross. Thank You, for helping me.
It’ doesn’t mean I won’t be sad, or scared. Sigh…I’m so ready for the rapture!

While I waited for mom to answer the phone I felt sick, 

“Hello.”

It didn’t sound like her at first and my mind rushed to worry. 

“Mom? Did I catch you at dinner?”

“Yeah,” she cleared her throat. 

“How are you? You’ve been on my heart?”

“I’m…good…I'm good.” 

I could tell there was more behind that answer but she was sitting with
Daddy so I didn't push it.

“What are you having?” I asked.

“Mac and cheese,” she giggled. “Daddy’s having spaghetti.”

“Oh, that sounds good. How is Daddy?”

“He’s good, Doing all of his therapy…just a minute…Eldon, do you want
me to help you? Just a minute, Becky.”

“Of course, no worries, Mom.” I pushed the mute button and said to my
husband, “I feel sick. This is so hard.”

“I’m back, it took me awhile to open that,” Mom chuckled.

“Hey, Mom, tell Daddy that KC won their game 51-31.”

“Eldon, KC won their game, 51-31,” there was a pause and no response
from Daddy. 

“Isn’t that great?” Mom nudged.

“Yup.” 

I could feel both Mom and I had a hard time with his response. Daddy loves
football. I grew up watching sports with my Dad on Sunday afternoons in Iowa.
My Mom and sisters would take a nap after church, but I wanted, no, needed,
to be near Daddy. I hardly saw him. He was always busy, sometimes working
three jobs while going to Bible school, or as a pastor, busy with the congregation.
I grabbed time with him every chance I could.

A favorite memory was when we lived in Georgia. Daddy drove a school
bus in the mornings before going to his next job and then classes. I was
about seven or eight and somehow I’d wake myself up, jump out of my
bunk bed and run out into the hall of our double-wide trailer.

“Can I go with Daddy on the bus, Mom, please?”

I can still see Mom at the kitchen sink preparing breakfast and packing our
school lunches in brown paper bags. It’s still dark outside, the air is crisp.
Daddy stood leaning against the stove eating something.

“Why? Why can’t she go?” He asked.

Mom hesitated, her back still to Daddy. “Ok, I guess you can, but you have
to hurry.”

I was already changing from my nightgown into whatever I could find in the dark 
to throw on. I was so excited my hands shook.

I remember knowing that Mom didn’t like it when Daddy and I had time
together. I didn’t understand it, but it was ‘there’.

Minutes later, I was climbing on the bus with my Dad, lunch boxes in hand.
It was cold. The whole world was asleep and it felt like we were the only
people alive. I felt so proud that my Daddy and I were on this adventure
together. I don’t recall us ever talking, we were probably too tired. 

I’d go all the way to the back of the bus. That’s where the big kids sat and
I felt so grown up. I remember looking at Daddy through the mirror that hung
over the drivers seat. It helped me not to be afraid of being clear in the back.
When we made our first stop, I moved up to the seat right behind him. 

He was my Dad and I was going to be the one to sit behind him!

It’s still a struggle adjusting to the person Daddy is right now. Will that change,
I don’t know? But it sure makes me miss him now.