Tonight you were my Daddy again. You were joking with the nurses ("Aye aye, Sergeant!"....said a little weaker than normal, but God how I loved hearing that!), reminiscing about things you and Joyce have done, asking about Powder ("that undisciplined dog", you call him, just to yank my chain a little, but who turns to mush when you see that wagging tail greeting you?), asking to read the paper (even if it was only the comics, that's something you haven't done in days), asking for your toothbrush and a shave, going through your mail and telling me which ones to keep and which ones to throw out...in short, you were C.B.
Even after a difficult and uncomfortable day of tests, tubes down your throat, needles in your arms, and once again not being permitted to have any food, you were more yourself tonight than you've been in almost a week. When you say to us "I'm so hungry", it simultaneously breaks my heart and makes it leap for joy, because anyone who knows you knows about your healthy appetite, and hearing you say that is music to my ears.
No, despite the pessimism of the doctors, despite the ups and downs and the seemingly endless snowballing of complications because of the shock to your 81-year old body, you, my darling Daddy, are a tough old bird, a fighter, a scrapper...you always have been and you're still fighting. You are not ready to give up on life, on humor, on your independence, on keeping up with current events, on your day-to-day chores, on your relationship, on your children and grandchildren. You're not ready to leave us yet, and you proved that today, not by any heroic or calculated move, but simply by being C.B. again. And as long as you fight to stay with us, we will fight with you, as long as it takes, whatever it takes.
I love you Daddy, so much. Rest easy, fight to get well and come back to us. In the meantime, we've got your back.
Even after a difficult and uncomfortable day of tests, tubes down your throat, needles in your arms, and once again not being permitted to have any food, you were more yourself tonight than you've been in almost a week. When you say to us "I'm so hungry", it simultaneously breaks my heart and makes it leap for joy, because anyone who knows you knows about your healthy appetite, and hearing you say that is music to my ears.
No, despite the pessimism of the doctors, despite the ups and downs and the seemingly endless snowballing of complications because of the shock to your 81-year old body, you, my darling Daddy, are a tough old bird, a fighter, a scrapper...you always have been and you're still fighting. You are not ready to give up on life, on humor, on your independence, on keeping up with current events, on your day-to-day chores, on your relationship, on your children and grandchildren. You're not ready to leave us yet, and you proved that today, not by any heroic or calculated move, but simply by being C.B. again. And as long as you fight to stay with us, we will fight with you, as long as it takes, whatever it takes.
I love you Daddy, so much. Rest easy, fight to get well and come back to us. In the meantime, we've got your back.
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