My dad.
I guess I haven't ever really talked much about my dad on here. When I think back on our relationship, I'm not so sure it is a "typical" one, but here goes it.
My mom met my dad when I was around the age of 3 (I think). I remember him when I was that little too. I guess that because some of the things my mom and I went through (and I have discussed in past blogs, read here if you desire to know the back story), I was suspicious of men coming into our life. I distinctly remember calling my dad, "that man." I would tattle on him constantly.
"Mom, that man just ........" whatever he was doing at the time. It didn't take long for me to warm up to him. Once it was obvious to me that he loved my mom, he loved me, he loved my sister and that he wasn't going anywhere, I loved him whole hearted. As a young child, you do not really understand the greatness of what my dad did.
It wasn'tlong before my dad adopted me. My mom was very open with Mandy and I about what was going on. I am so grateful for that. Even at the tender age of four, I knew that my dad wasn't my dad by blood. As the years passed by, my dad loved me, teased me, treated me as his own. He was there for all the important events in my life. He walked me down the aisle at my wedding. He steered me through some turbulent teen and young adult situations.
He has never treated me any different than his own flesh and blood. He will always and forever be my father, regardless of any stupid DNA.
This past week, my dad was admitted to the hospital for pneumonia. I do not understand it myself, but my dad and pneumonia do NOT mix. 8 years ago when he had pneumonia, he nearly died. I received the worst phone call of my life from my mother telling me the doctors did not think he would survive the night. Now, he is back in the hospital. Day 5 of treatment and not seeing much improvement. He was moved to the ICU yesterday. He has been assigned a Pulmonologist. There is now a plan in place for his treatment.
Now it is my job to be strong and remain positive. It is my dad's job to rest and get better.
It is hard not to worry about your parent. Suddenly it dawns on you that they could be taken away from you and it is the last thing I want.
I love you daddy. Thank you for all that you are. Please get well.
Cherish Hope.
My mom met my dad when I was around the age of 3 (I think). I remember him when I was that little too. I guess that because some of the things my mom and I went through (and I have discussed in past blogs, read here if you desire to know the back story), I was suspicious of men coming into our life. I distinctly remember calling my dad, "that man." I would tattle on him constantly.
"Mom, that man just ........" whatever he was doing at the time. It didn't take long for me to warm up to him. Once it was obvious to me that he loved my mom, he loved me, he loved my sister and that he wasn't going anywhere, I loved him whole hearted. As a young child, you do not really understand the greatness of what my dad did.
It wasn'tlong before my dad adopted me. My mom was very open with Mandy and I about what was going on. I am so grateful for that. Even at the tender age of four, I knew that my dad wasn't my dad by blood. As the years passed by, my dad loved me, teased me, treated me as his own. He was there for all the important events in my life. He walked me down the aisle at my wedding. He steered me through some turbulent teen and young adult situations.
He has never treated me any different than his own flesh and blood. He will always and forever be my father, regardless of any stupid DNA.
This past week, my dad was admitted to the hospital for pneumonia. I do not understand it myself, but my dad and pneumonia do NOT mix. 8 years ago when he had pneumonia, he nearly died. I received the worst phone call of my life from my mother telling me the doctors did not think he would survive the night. Now, he is back in the hospital. Day 5 of treatment and not seeing much improvement. He was moved to the ICU yesterday. He has been assigned a Pulmonologist. There is now a plan in place for his treatment.
Now it is my job to be strong and remain positive. It is my dad's job to rest and get better.
It is hard not to worry about your parent. Suddenly it dawns on you that they could be taken away from you and it is the last thing I want.
I love you daddy. Thank you for all that you are. Please get well.
Cherish Hope.
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