Not yet...

Dear Dad,

Well, here we are.  A week into the New Year, and you are still "lingering."  Actually, lingering does not describe it.  After being called to the nursing center the other evening (3 days ago) to sign new DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) papers, and your breathing was labored (down to 4 breaths per minute), the next morning arrived and you showed some improvement.

You ate a little cream of wheat, drank quite a bit of juice, and started a new uphill battle.  Ate lunch, and wanted to feed yourself dinner.

Yesterday, you talked on the phone several times, and even wanted to go home.

You are receiving some pain medication and muscle relaxers to ease things for you, and the nurse said that is allowing you to tolerate the days better.

It is literally day to day with you and I just don't know what to think anymore.  I am glad you are still here, I just hope as your health changes, the quality of life will do the same, I would hate to see you improve enough to recognize how helpless you are, you have always been too independent to be satisfied with that.

Not much to write, perhaps iy is also from my own condition.  I ended up very sick with bronchitis and have been to the doctor twice, I think I ran myself down over the holidays, trying to do too much.  Second trip to doctor, second set of meds, feel a little better today.

We are having an incredible cold spell here in Dallas.  The wind chill is in single digits, fortunately, no precipitation.  It affects the ability for us (all of us) to visit, and I hope you do not realize it.

I know this is far from spiritual, but I am reminded of one of my all time favorite movies, "Gladiator", starring Russel Crowe.  I know, it is a "guy" (violent) movie, but there are some real hidden truths in the movie.  The one I like most is when Russel is talking with the African man and the African tells him he will be with his family soon, "but not yet..."

Sounds like one of our talks recently.  I told you this race is almost over, and you win. I described it as if I was a spectator, this time your sons are watching you from the stands, instead of you watching us.  We are cheering for you, along with "that great crowd of witnesses."  This time you are alone, having outrun your enemy, your competition, and you are about to cross the finish line...a winner.

Soon...but not yet.