My Dad

This week began with prayer. Prayer for my brother-in-law’s paper work for his Visa to go through. Monday evening I rejoiced with him and my sister when I found out all was good. Monday night I played games and laughed for a few hours with six other single females.

Late Monday night I received a Facebook message from my brother saying my dad was on his way to a hospital in the nearest larger city.

What?

My dad had told me he had pain in the back of his knee but was sure it was only a pulled muscle and tried to live his normal life.

That pain in the back of the knee was a blood clot, one that was heading straight for his lungs.

He was admitted to the ICU so they could keep a close eye on him and he was told that if he had waited another 24-36 hours it would have been too late.

Too late. My dad would not have been here to walk me down the aisle. He would not have been here to pick me up from the airport whenever I get a chance to fly home. He would not have been here to hug. My children would have never gotten to meet their grandpa. My dad would have never gotten to see the country I have fallen in love with. And so so much more.

I did not sleep well that night. My emotions where flying.

I was thankful. Intense thankfulness that he went to the hospital on time. I’m not even sure thankful is powerful enough to describe this feeling. Deep gratitude. I was also thankful for the medical care they have available. The technology, the knowledge, the staff, the food, the tests, the transportation, and so on. These things are not always available here in Haiti but are taken for granted much too often in the States.

I was jealous. Jealous that my brother and his family would be able to travel to my parents house and commute to the hospital. Thankful he could be there, but jealous that I could not be. I’ve spent many nights up with sick children—its what I should be doing, staying up with him, right? I wanted so badly just to give and get a hug from my dad—the man who has meant so much to me in these last 24 years.

I was mad. I hated the fact that I lived so far from my family and it would cost so much to get home. I hated that it has been almost six months since I have seen my dad. I hated that he wasn’t even a simple phone call away.

I was nostalgic. Thinking of memories with my dad. Remembering the things he has taught us.

I was pensive. Thinking about the future and all those events I mentioned before. Thankful they can still happen.

I was frustrated. Again feeling the realization that everyone I love will never be in the same place. EVER.

I was worried. I was thinking about my mom. I was wondering how stable my dad was. I was wondering if I should travel home. I was wondering how easy it would be for my dad’s health to take a turn for the worse.

My head couldn’t even think straight and I am forever thankful for all of you who have been praying us through when we are so caught up in the here and now.

My dad is a hard worker. He’s always worked a lot. I remember him working 16 hour days 5 days a week and sometimes even more. He did what he had to do to provide for our family. He taught us the value of hard work and that we need to be productive in society.

My dad is a family man. Family is important to him. Even though he worked so much he loved attending sporting events, plays, music concerts, field trips, and other big events. They were important to us so they were important to him. He taught us that family was something to value and to not take lightly. He showed us that his hobbies are not as important as us—quitting the church choir because he missed so many practices just to attend my brothers’ sporting events.

Every time I leave to come back to Haiti my dad hugs me a little bit harder knowing that I’m a little bit older. Knowing each time I leave I grow up in more ways than he wants his little girl to. Knowing that I see things he cannot even comprehend. Knowing that he does not know the next time I will be home. Knowing that his love is being transferred through this hug.

My dad likes sports, grilling, driving, singing, watching TV, fixing things, working outside, traveling, and helping people .

He pretty much has a GPS engrained in his mind and can get anywhere easily and once he’s been there he will never forget how to get there no matter how many years pass before he needs to know it again.

My dad is not afraid to cry and that sometimes we just need a good cleansing cry. He taught me that guys are not always the thick skinned people the world wants us to believe they are and that that is totally fine. His sensitiveness made me realize that crying is a good thing and made me want to look for that in my future husband.

He loves people. Anytime my dad goes anywhere he strikes up conversations. He knows a ton of people and no matter how many years have passed since he has seen them, he starts talking like they never grew apart. He genuinely cares about how people are doing. Whenever he hears of a need he can fulfill he is there to help in whatever way he can.

He has a soft spot for kids. He’s helped with youth and children in all different capacities at church. Even after my brothers graduated high school and he could regularly attend choir practices he stuck with helping in the kids classes. His grandsons are always on his heart and mind and the kids in his apartment complex love him.

He loves God. He’s always finding new ways to serve in church and does not take his commitments lightly. He prays for others and I know him and my mom are always thinking about and praying for us kids.

Many of my dad’s qualities are things I would love to find in my future husband. I love his sensitiveness, when he grills meals, when he sings in his deep booming voice, when he fixes things that need it, when he gives his great big bear hugs and that family is so important to him. I love his soft spot for kids, his heart to serve, traveling with him, how hard he works, and his relationship with God.

My siblings and I are so blessed to have grown up the way we did. With parents who loved us and loved each other. Last April they celebrated their 37^th anniversary. We grew up with parents who took us to church, taught us how to love God and love others, instilled in us hearts to serve, and encouraged us to become who we are today (even if it wasn’t exactly what was in their minds).

My parents do not enjoy the fact that I live in Haiti, but willingly give me their blessing because they know this is where God has called me. That means so much to me and is an amazing example of selfless love. Each time I come home they try another reason to convince me to stay but are proud to send me off.

Dad, I can’t get anything to you by Father’s Day, but I hope you enjoy this tribute to you. I love you dad! Happy Father’s Day.

To everyone else reading this, go tell the people you love that you love them. If someone pops into your head let them know you where thinking of them—send them a quick message or a long letter. Call them up on the phone or have coffee together sometime. Don’t take family for granted. Always tell them you love them even if at the moment you don’t really like them—you don’t know how much time they have left.

Live each day to its fullest—you never know how much time you have left.

Please keep praying for my dad. Earlier today he was released from the ICU to the Cardiac Ward. It is a baby step in the right direction. God’s hand is on my dad’s life and I am so glad he spared him. I can’t wait for the news that he is in a regular room and then later that he can finally leave the hospital. Your prayers mean the world to us.