I just arrived from the ICU of the UST Hospital about a couple of hours ago. After several days of being confined in a provincial hospital and a roller coaster ride of emotions, a couple hours after midnight last Thursday, dad was brought to UST because his condition wasn’t improving. I have been attempting to blog about what’s been happening to my dad several times, but many of those times have been interrupted by phone calls of progress and many times setbacks re dad’s condition.
Last Thursday I thought that dad had finally passed through the critical stage only to receive a midnight phone call from my brother telling me that dad needs to be transferred to UST where the facilities are adequate to address his frail condition. I bawled like a child to my husband. I was lost and couldn’t think straight. I think that was one of those rare times that I totally didn’t know what to think or do. All I could do was fall on my face and cry like a little girl. I couldn’t even text friends to pray because I simply stopped, so hubby did his best to let some of our closest friends know. After a while, I called my dad just to tell him whiIe sobbing and crying that I loved him very much and that the kids love him and miss him as well. Dad was having a hard time breathing and I told him not to talk anymore. I just wanted him to know that I loved him. My dad is not verbally expressive. He shows his love for us by the things he does. For the first time, I finally heard him say “I love you” to me. I could tell that he was close to tears. I said goodbye and told him I would go to the hospital once they got settled. After that, I made a few calls to my cousin and my brother to inform them of this development.
After several hours of phone call exchanges, I forced myself to sleep because I knew I had to be there the next day. I didn’t want to be away from my dad no matter what happens. After barely 3 hours of sleep, I woke up and my brother called me to tell me they had to “incubate” dad (put him on a ventilator by inserting a tube through his trachea to assist his breathing). He had left my sister there to go home because he wasn’t feeling well too and he had a pregnant wife who was having early contractions because she was due to give birth in 3 weeks or so. I called my sister and she was tearful, she visited my dad every day at the old hospital and she knows by his looks if something wasn’t right. That day, she said she didn’t like how daddy looked and she told me to hurry up and come quickly because she was alone and by herself. I assured her I was on my way…that I would be there…to wait for me and not to worry because I would I was coming to stay and keep watch with her.
While hubby and the kids were preparing, I sat myself in the car and waited for them there.I was so restless I felt like a fish out of water gasping for air and the only thing I could really do to calm myself was to PRAY. Hubby and the kids were finally in the car and I asked the kids to be quiet during the trip. They agreed.
I went back to praying and I just silently poured out my heart to God,… knowing that only He can understand and only He could reach the deepest recesses of my soul that no earthly means could comfort. Looking back now and trying to recall what or how I prayed, I know that no human words could express what my soul laid before Him, I just remembered the weight of it all pushing against my chest. This continued all throughout the trip until I finally realized that the reason why I was on an emotional roller coaster was because I was trusting in men and not really trusting God after all. I was putting my faith in the findings, the physical evidences, the progress reports, the external manifestations that would validate the “answered” prayer that I wanted. So if the findings were good, it brought a false hope. If the findings were bad, it brought me despair.
Once I had realized that this was my folly, my foolishness, I asked God to help me put my trust in Him. There are times when hubby would ask me “Don’t you trust me? Do I have no credibility in that area?” I felt God was asking me the same thing…”Do you trust Me? Have I been good to you? Have I been faithful? Finally, Would you believe me and my promises even if the circumstances are not favorable to you?” I easily answered everything with a “yes”. When it came to the last question, I dwelt on it awhile trying to be as honest as I could to myself. When I knew in my heart that I could honestly and confidently say “yes” to the last question, the weight lifted from my chest and faith in the goodness and kindness of God calmed my soul. I had found the refuge I was desperately seeking for.
Does this mean that I should no longer feel sorrow or pain and just put on a smiley face and pretend the tears and the hurt do not exist? I don’t know, probably not. All I know right now is that I am like a little lost girl who fell and scraped her knee badly, holding the hand of my Heavenly Father as he carries me so I could rest while He is slowly nursing my wounds and singing me a lullabye to help ease the pain…
(to be continued……………..)
(to all those who have been praying and have left notes and messages, thank you so much. Your prayers have been helping us through this time. My apologies to all if I have not responded sooner I will try to respond individually as soon as our situation is more stable. Thank you for your understanding. I have relayed all your messages to my dad and our family is truly grateful to each one of you. May the Lord reward you above and beyond what we could hope to do for you all.)