In August of 2006 I received a phone call from a woman at church asking if I would be interested in taking over the bookkeeping responsibilities for her husband's architect firm in town. My heart beat rapidly after I got off the phone and my mind raced with all the unknowns. Go back to work? Use my brain? Who would watch the kids? Within minutes I placed a phone call to my dad and step-mom (Judy) and asked if they would be interested in watching Sage every other Friday for a few hours. Without hesitation they said, "Yes!"
Every other Friday turned into every Friday and within a few weeks, Aspen (being only 8 months at the time), was going up to my dad's house along with her big sister so mom could "work."
And after a while, the kids stayed all day with my parents and Ryan and I would drive up to Upper Ojai to finish off the day with a tasty home cooked meal by Judy and treats galore handed out by my dad ("Papa").
For 3 years we have spent almost every Friday evening with my dad and Judy. I miss Fridays at my dad's house. I miss seeing my dad spoil my children rotten. My heart hurts tonight. I am so thankful for all of those Friday nights. I hope for more but I fear they are a thing of the past.
It's weird how all of a sudden you are fine and then the next moment you have tears streaming down your face and you are shuddering with an overwhelming sense of grief.
My dad is still in the hospital and each day brings about some hope and then more questions and fewer and fewer answers.
Oh God, you are the ultimate physician. May you guide these doctors serving my dad. May you grant them the wisdom and knowledge necessary to make sense of all of this.