I had a gift today...time with my dad and mom alone. We didn't really talk about much today. We were all kind of tired, sad, discouraged. My dad's fevers just keep coming and they really wipe him out. His right hand is numb from the chemo.
One thing I love about my dad, is his hands. They symbolize a gentle strength from my childhood to me. Those hands held mine when I was scared, they kept me safe while walking down the street, they held the reigns on the horse that bucked me off and Dad made me get right back on, they held my bike when I was learning to ride, they were there the day he took out the secret fifty dollar bill in the back of his wallet and he paid for an extra special prom dress...they walked me down the isle, they held my hands when I was 16 and I was baptized, they held all of my babies, they dedicated my special baby Grace in the hospital, they held my hand when I was scared after I was diagnosed with crohn's, they held my hand at my daughter's funeral, they touched the casket as he prayed over our babygirl and I was scared to leave her there in the ground, they have gently led our family through many trials..they've led singing at old fashioned tent meetings, and they've pounded the pulpit more times than I could count..... I could go on and on.
Today I did something special to those hands. I trimmed my dad's fingernails and toenails. I remember my dad doing that for me.
What an honor and a privilege to do something so seemingly insignificant...but with so much love.
I love you, Dad.