This will probably be the most personal post I’ll ever write.
(Excuse the length…)
For a little while now, my father has been sick. Even before I was born, my father had some issues. Back in 1988, he suffered a huge accident that put him into a coma that doctors didn’t think he would come out of. Four years later, I was born. My father has been through a lot, and I do mean A LOT. I’m talking car accidents to stab wounds to gunshot wounds. My daddy is and always has been a trooper. He’s a walking miracle. But even the toughest soldiers have their weak days.
At any rate, I am sharing my father’s story for one reason and one reason only:
– His present condition is affecting me in such a way that I need to find some release.
Let’s start from the beginning, shall we? That big accident my father had back in ’88 that I mentioned earlier? Yeah, well here’s what happened. He was a tradesman, a painter to be more specific, and one day, he was on the job and he was on a ladder painting the side of a school. There was an empty pool below him. Something happened with the ladder and my father fell head first into that empty pool. After that accident, he was left with two brain surgeries, short-term memory loss and a coma. He even suffers from some paralysis. His left side is paralyzed, causing him to walk with a limp and leaving him with limited mobility of his left hand. In the picture above (and the ones below), you might be able to see a slight indentation on the right side of his head; that is where the damage from his head injury is located and doctors had to remove from brain tissue from that spot.
Doctors did not think my father would awake from his coma, but God had other plans. 😉 I like to believe that God woke him because he was not done with my father just yet. I also like to believe that because God woke him up and allowed him to have one more child, I am here for a reason.
Growing up, my daddy and I were inseparable. Everywhere he went, I went. He was my superhero and I was his little sidekick. My daddy took care of me, spared no expense when I was little. He would surprise me with gifts when I came home from school, birthdays were always nice and he would always tell me I was beautiful. He would always say, “Baby, you’re beautiful. You were born beautiful and don’t you ever forget it.” He truly celebrated me as a child never wasted an opportunity to tell me that he loved me.
Fast forward 25 years later, and now all of that stuff that has happened to him is starting to catch up with him. He lives in a nursing home now and doctors think his condition is leaning toward dementia. He had a stroke a few weeks back and almost instantly, his condition started to worsen. It hurts because all of his children love him and we only want to see him well. Most of the time, he doesn’t remember us, but lately things seems to be getting a little better. All I can do is continue to hope and pray for a full recovery.