Dealing with a Dying Relative and Having a Supportive Dad

Stroke Prayer

One of the most wonderfully deep moments in my life occurred after my grandmother had a stroke. She was residing in a nursing home an hour away, and her mind and memory were starting to go. On her last birthday that she lived through, my family and I went to visit her. When we arrived, she started crying and said, “I have family!” Apparently she had thought that she was all alone in the world without anyone left. She had been carrying a Bible around.

After embracing her with hugs, we took her into her room. She ate cake, and there was a balloon we had brought and every time it bounced toward her, she would make a surprised face and poke it back up into the air. We all took turns visiting with her, but since her mind had well deteriorated, she would say the most adorable and random things rather than communicate well. Her word choice was slightly off when she tried to speak. I really wish I could remember some examples of things they said (they were hilarious), but my memory has more to do with generalizations than specifics.

As we were about to leave, grandma asked if we could all pray together. We wondered what she would say, as she had made just about as much sense as a 5-year old child all day. We sat down with her anyways and she said a wonderful prayer. It was beautiful. The entire prayer was actually structured and made complete sense. The only specific phrase I remembered her saying in the prayer was “please keep David all happy and rosy.” (David is her son and my half-uncle.) After we left, I felt like God was still connected to her even when she was losing her mind. I felt like she was in good hands.


Too Bad it's not Father's Day

At the moment, I have trouble thinking of a specific event with either of my parents to write about. Because I love to generalize, I would love to describe my dad and how, even though he wasn’t a good father, I feel he was the best dad I could have had.

Whenever it was my siblings’ or my birthday, Dad always threw large, fun parties for us with tons of our friends. Every single night when I was young, he came into my room to tell my sister and me a bedtime story. He made up a completely new story every single night. He eventually adopted several motifs that would recur during some of the stories. They were so much fun.

I also feel like my dad is the only person on earth who truly accepts me for who I am. Though both he and my mom trained me and brought me up very well and he recognizes my faults (or not!) he is why I am so confident as myself. He never criticized what I wore (even when I wore things like socks with sandals, boy’s cargo shorts, and graphic T-shirts). He never told me to dress prettier and never pressured me to be more girly.

He always encouraged my art and talked to as many people as he could about it whenever he got the chance. He bragged about it to everyone, and even sold a couple of my pieces by doing so.

Even though he is a huge dog person, he let me and my siblings get a cat because we wanted one, and he helped us take care of it. I feel like he actually cared about that fat thing.

No matter what decision I made, my dad always supported me and made me feel valuable. I have always loved him for it and will continue to do so forever.