As some of you might know, I was called away to Puerto Rico due to my Grandpa's recently failing health. I have, since Wednesday, been back on the island and the next few posts will most likely be about my time here.
Her voice had cracked...
of all the things that brought the severity of my Abuelo's condition into reality it was this that began the journey.
My aunt has never been one to be completly forthcoming with her emotions. As the eldest in her family as well, she and I struggle with the same condition. For us, it is a matter of caring for the family and feelings must come later. At that very moment I knew...I knew that the following days would change my life forever.
Arriving at the hospital Abuela ushered my Aunt and I into his room, his bed was a mess of tubes and wires. I gingerly made my way to his side as though my steps might somehow add to the obvious pain he was in. There he was: Abuelo. Each breath a struggle and as his heart monitor did beat at an irregular pace I grabbed his hand to steady my own. I gazed upon a frail and tiny man, his body covered in sun spots and his skin appearing oddly yellow. When his eyes would open periodically to gaze at the ceiling I thought perhaps he was seeing Angels. Hanging upon every unintelligible word that he uttered we hoped he would emerge from the medicinal sleep he had been put under for his benefit.
I couldn't help myself, I began to cry. My Grandpa had been the one to hold my bicycle secure, he had clasped my hand in his as we crossed the street and he had been the one that, as I child, I had looked to for strength. He had never looked helpless in his life. Yet, here he was, weak and close to breakable and I was powerless to help him.
A story that Grandpa loved to tease me with came to mind and I share it now with you.
I had come to visit Puerto Rico when I was five years old and, at the time, loved to play house. What five year old doesn't? So, I had taken Grandpa to the bedroom, as it was way past his bedtime, and proceeded, in gustapo-like fashion, to refuse to let him get up. "Can I get up now?" He would plead. " No!" Would be my stern reply. This went on for a good few minuets; he would implore and I would similarly deny each request. Finally, daddy came in to distract me with ice cream and bedtime was soon forgotten.
As I sat studying my Grandpa as he slept. I couldn't deny the knawing throb at the back of my heart. The knowledge that there would be no such discussion this time. I would not be granted to gift of acquiescence.
If it was his time to go, it was his time to go... with or without my permission.
Right now Grandpa remains in ICU. Though his body is slowly improving his mind has not. He is in and out of lucidity. Please continue to pray for his increased health, body, heart and mind. I find great comfort in Psalms 147:1 & 3 and Psalms 34:1.
"Praise the LORD. How good it is to sing praises to our God...He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds."
"Taste and see that the Lord is good. 'I will bless the LORD at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth.'"
The Lord is the great physician and whether He calls my Grandpa home our heals him completely I know that in every circumstance He is good. Thank you for your prayers.