Art Journal Pages from March 2008
I no longer have the fear that my father will die during the night. He is improving every day. He has been moved into a rehab facility and he is happy there. Yesterday we were able to walk to the outdoor patio..it was the first time he had sat outside since April 6th. It feels like an eternity. I feel older. I feel tired. I am slowly.. and I mean slowly, getting back into feeling what a normal day feels like. I am counting the days when I will no longer have to spend hours with him in the hospital.
The doctor that saved my dad's life came by while I was there yesterday. He commented on how happy I look and how he will never forget the emotion he saw on my face back on April 6th. I have no idea what he saw, but I know what I felt. He was giving my mother and I "the speech".. I remember I couldn't stop from thinking about what I was hearing... he was preparing us that my dad was going to die. (In fact, technically, he did die, but he was revived.)
Having heard that speech...from a real doctor...am I now prepared? No. I kept thinking how unfair this was. We lost my brother. He was 35. And now this? My dad had never been in the hospital before (aside from one small out patient procedure over 20 years ago)..and this is what we get? Boom. Death? How is this possible?
So yes. I am tired. I don't feel like I need to sleep, but the mental toll this has all taken is apparent now. I'm a little forgetfull...making a few mistakes here and there...but I know things will get better. They always do..whatever that means.