Fathers (belated)

June 20, 2011: I try really, REALLY hard not to turn on my computer on the weekends unless there is an emergency (like printing off something that needs to go to church at 9 AM with me) or I'm dying to Google something very important (see my question below). It's my way of "resting from the world" for a few days. No Facebook, no blog, no annoying ads from companies I will never buy from, no work to log into, no questions to answer. Sometimes a dark computer screen is nice. But, in doing this, sometimes I miss SHOUTING out my own comments on what's "trending" over the weekend, i.e. Father's Day Sunday. So, here I go, belatedly, on Monday.

I have two wonderful grandfathers. Different in many ways, but so alike in others. One a wiry businessman, one a quiet farmer. One dashing in appearance, one with mud on his boots. One with a house in the city, one with acres of grain and cows. One a father of five, one a father of eleven, including twins. Both hard-working, both sensitive to their wives, both fun to be around, both the essence of love and service. I miss them.

I have a wonderful father. My hero, my supporter, my rock, my example. Sometimes I dream of him, and the dream always starts where I come through the front door and he is there to hug me. I feel his broad, strong shoulders in my arms and I kiss his whiskery cheek. He is smiling and then, we're laughing. I miss him.

I have a wonderful husband. He is quiet, patient, and rarely complains. He has given up a lot of his dreams in this life and I hope there is compensation in the life to come for all his sacrifices. He suffers silently, but takes on the world for his family. Last Thursday night and Friday were, for me, just one more invasion of my shattered privacy over the past three months, and I realized my hubby has also had to witness all the things that are better left unsaid and undone and unseen. But, he endured it along with me - eating his meals alone, waking up every time I crawled out of bed and turned on the bathroom light, watching me put on another hospital gown and get poked with another needle and wheeled away on another gurney. And though the final result was "no colon cancer, no polyps, no more colonoscopies for 8-10 years", there was a biopsy taken that my doctor suspects is due to "irritable bowel syndrome" (which I had to Google, as shown above). Lovely. Stress-related? Absolutely. Eating five or six (small) bites of food a DAY because food tastes nasty? You betcha. But, I still have to report to him at his office this Friday. So much for my holiday from doctors and hospitals...

To all the fathers in my life, I'm grateful. I love you, I admire you, I'm so happy to have been a part of your life. Now and forever, through all the good and bad. You make me stronger, so I can fight all battles. Thanks for standing by me, literally. You're the best.