My heart was already racing when I got on the treadmill. We had gotten some difficult news about my father and I hoped that the running would exhaust my body and I could burn off the excess adrenaline. I was wrong. By the time I finished my run I was nearly in a panic attack. My heart was racing out of control and my legs wanted to give out from underneath me. That was over a month ago. I’ve avoided the treadmill ever since. Until tonight.

It’s been two weeks since Tim called me that horrible Tuesday morning. I was still laying in bed and I was surprised to hear my phone ring. The familiar feeling of dread sprang up in my stomach. Something was wrong. I answered the phone. Tim told me to find someone to watch the kids because we needed to get to the hospital now. He didn’t need to elaborate. I needed to get to the hospital to say goodbye to my dad.

That day was the hardest day of my life. The car ride to the hospital was torturous. Every breath was labored, every thought was pure chaos. Everything seemed so terribly wrong. How did we get here? None of this seems right.

God held me together that day, because I was a broken mess of humanity, and two weeks later he continues to show me grace, though I do not deserve it. At the hospital today we were allowed to take my father down to the patio outside of the cafeteria. For the first time in weeks fresh air touched his face and the sun shown down on his skin. He sat there, looking around, taking in the change of scenery and chatting with my mother as I hunted down a cup of coffee for him. Today was a good day.

Every day he makes progress and there has been talk of discharging him within the next week, which we are all eager to see happen. We are ready for him to be home, for his continuing recovery to be in a place of comfort among the people who love him best. We miss him terribly.

Thank you for your continued prayers for my father and for our family. We have seen the tangible results of those prayers and we remain in awe of the one who has granted them. Good night, dear friends.