We had the pleasure of visiting with my grandpa today. His journey back to health has been and will continue to be long and difficult. He has been released from the hospital into a nursing home, which we are calling a rehab center, but my mom and dad sprung him loose for the afternoon and brought him to their house for some fresh air.
He still isn't allowed to eat or drink, so he has a feeding tube along with his oxygen tube. I can't imagine having nothing in my mouth for months! His spirits are good and he likes to joke around with us, just as always. But, there are moments...
He'll grow quiet and shake his head, wondering aloud, "Why didn't God just take me home?" And I have no good answer for that - nothing that isn't a platitude. I think the loss of dignity is just as painful as his physical state. He has found himself in situations that are more embarrassing than I could have imagined and has had to accept his state of helplessness with grace. And he has certainly done just that.
My mom has experienced a new kind of grace, too. She has found it within herself to care for him, and has shared with me how amazing it is to discover the ability to do things you would have considered unsavory at best, as a loving gesture to a parent.
We came by the house to visit him this afternoon and found my mom giving him a pedicure, soaking his feet, clipping and filing his thick, yellowed toenails, lovingly massaging lotion into his parched skin. My dad pulled out the clippers and gave him a haircut.
The dogs all barked and ran in circles when he vacuumed the hair off Grandpa's shoulders.
It was beautiful, really.
He enjoyed the sunshine and the breeze, felt refreshed from the "spa" treatments, and it wasn't long before he was tired out and nodded off to sleep in the leather recliner that had been positioned in the living room just for him to enjoy.
DAILY BLISS: Chocolate cake for breakfast!