Coronavirus School Closings: A Letter to my Home Educating Peers

Dear Fellow Home Educators,

It is on my heart that we parents who are already used to working with our littles from home need to be mindful of how we support our public school peers during the COVID-19 school closings. It is no small thing to suddenly find the full weight of your child's education dropped in your lap. A few points to remember:

• We had the privilege of choice: each of us consciously decided to try home education. Some driving core belief backed that decision.
• In most cases, we had the benefit of forethought. Most of us had time between our decision and day one of school.
• We are familiar with the curriculum. We researched painstakingly, taking our time to choose what we hoped would be the best material for our specific children. We poured over it once it arrived, figuring out how to properly divide and teach the work load. We continue to this every single day.

This is not the case with our public school friends and family. The woke up one morning to the announcement that school was closing. They have been handed weeks (or more) worth of homework that was meant to be discussed and doled out in a specific way by an already-established teacher. 

The curriculum was predetermined and already 3/4 done. They were given all of this homework and essentially told "resume". Resume from what? Somewhere in the stack of all of this paperwork is the answer, but where? I am hearing reports that teachers are only available to answer questions a few hours a day. How can a teacher address the concerned caregivers of dozens of students in that short amount of time?

Life is hard for any parent; especially moms, as women still shoulder the lion's share of responsibility in most homes. Our decisions are constantly questioned and judged. This is doubly so for single parents. We all know that each child is different. We have to remember that each adult is different, as well. No two families will have an identical experience.

What can we do during this time of shocking transition to be present for our friends and family?

• Offer Love and Support
  
  This doesn't mean that you should stop all social distancing and take in every child on the block. Help in a reasonable way wherever you can. Offer an open and gracious heart. Listen to concerns. Help weed through the intent of paperwork that may seem confusing. Talk on the phone. Text. Message. Video conference. You won't have all of the answers (Who does?), but you can ease some of the mental load.

• Do Not Push
  
  Offering help is step one. Make yourself available where possible, but absolutely *do not* get pushy. You are the sitting expert on home schooling your *own* children. If you have done this for any amount of time, you know that no two children learn in an identical fashion.
  
  In other words, this is *not* the time to try to prove a point. Home education is hard, dedicated, sometimes thankless work... we know. That doesn't mean this is the right time to prove that. You know those people who have been rude about your choices all along? Those parents who pop-quiz your child, even though their own kids are struggling? Yeah, be nice to them. Try to channel Mr. Rogers, if that is what it takes.
  
  This is not the time to try to force your personal ideals, beliefs, or methods of success onto already-overwhelmed families. Be there, but be there gently. Remind them that they have everything they need to succeed, because we all *want* each other to succeed.

• Be Encouraging
  
  Encourage decompression. Children who are suddenly trying to balance home and school *need* to decompress. The structure of a classroom is entirely different than suddenly having to obey mom or dad when it comes to schoolwork. We emphasize decompression to families who are transitioning out of public school and into home education: this is not much different. Children are likely to act out, and adults and children both can become confused, frustrated, and anxious.
  
  Encourage movement and playtime. Remember how fundamentally important it is to protect the mental health state of each person. Let the children play! Let them wiggle! :) A well-exercised body aids a focused mind. Taking breaks is essential.
  
  Encourage them to find their own schedule. This their home and we as a world have almost all suddenly found ourselves with loads of time on our hands. Encourage them to try different orders to their day. Learn which child needs more of a set schedule, or which needs slight variations. It is okay to experiment.

The already-existing home education community has a rare, sweeping opportunity to bring our two communities into harmony and understanding with one another. We have a chance to be symbiotic rather than opposing each other. 

We *must* not take this opportunity to rub it in society's collective face that now they get a fractional sample of how hard *we* work every single day.

We must not be haughty, mocking, derisive, patronizing, or snide. We already know the fundamental truth that being solely responsible for your child's education can be impossibly hard some days. I have already seen comments about how this school break isn't even real homeschooling. I understand that. I know exactly what that means. However, that doesn't mean that this doesn't feel like homeschooling to these families. 

Social distancing brings with it a combination of e-learning and written homework. The experience will be easier for some and harder for others. In that aspect, it is not too different from home schooling. Some of us were really meant to be doing it: others struggle more. At the end of the day we are *all* trying to do what is best for our children. There is no "better" parent. There never was.

Let our conversations be seasoned with love, grace, confidence, and kindness. Let us be this way - not out of pity or because we find anyone to be lacking, but out of the decency of our own souls. Let our hearts communicate openly. Nobody likes to feel vulnerable, but right now we all need each other. We walk a divergent path. Now is the time to celebrate that! Let us do so with cheer. :)

When the world begins to open back up and everything inevitably comes to an end, may we parents all have proven to have strengthened one another. May we sincerely understand and appreciate each other's paths. May we be more respectful when talking about educational choices in the future. 

May we also realize on a very personal level the true value of the people who spend their time educating our children.

#PayYourTeachersBetterAfterThis

The Most Beautiful Valentine

Yesterday, I had the privilege of accidentally happening upon my parents' Valentine's Day. It was the most beautiful thing I have witnessed in recent memory. ~ <3 ~

First of all, my mom's neighbor took her out for dinner at the Mexican restaurant that is actually right behind their living community. She told my mom that she needs out of the house (which is so true). There are several widowed women on the street who know nearly (if not exactly) what my parents are going through right now. I am so grateful to this precious woman for that beautiful gesture. It was great that my mom got to have a short period of time to just 'be'. 

When my mom is out to run errands, my sisters and I take turns calling my dad. They have an emergency plan set in place, of course, but it is a comfort to us to hear his voice and to know that he is doing alright. 

I took my turn and spoke with my dad. Later, I took an additional turn to call, just in case my mom wasn't home yet. She was home and answered the phone. :) We chatted for a while. She told me about lunch with her kindly neighbor/friend. I talked to her about the girls and something silly I had read online. In the background, I suddenly heard my dad speak. 

Dad: "There it is!"

Mom: "What? Did you get me something?"

Dad: "Happy Valentine's Day, Babe."

AWWWWWWWWWWWW!!! It was pretty evident that a knock had come to the door. I said goodbye and hung up the phone as quickly as possible so they could have their privacy. :)

Around half an hour later, it was killing me! lol What had come to the door?!?!? I had to know! haha I hoped that I wasn't intruding and called them back. My mom answered the phone again, her hands in the sink with the roses she was cutting to put in a vase. I was so delighted for her!

She told me that his card to her read that each petal of every rose contained a kiss from him. One fell, and she sounded genuinely sad when she said, "Oh no! There goes another petal!" She confirmed this, telling me that five sweet petals had fallen off and about broken her heart. She doesn't want to lose *any* of my dad's kisses. That was so touching it broke my own heart a little bit. :( 

I asked her if she would take a picture of her flowers and candy. I also wondered if her neighbor might pop over again to take a picture of her and dad together for Valentine's Day. The truth is, my sisters and I are hyper-aware that it may be their last Valentine's Day together. We want to have pictures of everything these days, you know?

Mom didn't think she was dressed well enough for a photo together. I suggested taking a selfie instead, pointing out that it could just be their faces. That is a funny idea because my parents have never taken a selfie! What followed next made my entire day! haha

My mom left the phone on speaker, setting it down so she could try to figure out how to take a selfie with my dad. I could hear them laughing and trying to get situated! She has to sit very carefully near him, of course. Balancing that with trying to learn how to hold the phone out carefully and take a photo was a whole new experience!

Oh, she giggled like a schoolgirl! My heart became lighter and more joyful with every single giggle! The laughter was punctuated by the happy chirping of my tablet: notifications of pictures received from them. Each picture widened my smile and added to my own joy! I was grinning like an idiot in no time! haha

The phone call wasn't terribly long but it was so sweet. I hopped off once I had received the pictures and they had given up on getting the perfect shot. To me, every single one was absolute perfection! I left my parents to their laughter, roses, and Mint Meltaways from Fannie May. 

Hubs and I celebrated our Valentine's Day last weekend. Yesterday was 'just another day', for what it was worth. That said, thanks to these two peeks into my parents' home, I got to witness what I would have to describe what was the *most* beautiful Valentine! <3 <3 <3 

Some couples don't get to make it to 'til death do us part'. My parents do. It is tragic, in some ways. However, it is also intensely rich, powerful, and beautiful. Love like theirs, which has been tried in the fires of life repeatedly (and which has survived and thrived), is something special, indeed.

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for being this beautiful testimony of love that doesn't quit. Thank you for exemplifying the principle that love works - very hard sometimes - to keep going. Thank you for proving that 'til death do us part' is still more than "just words" on "just a paper". Your love and commitment have been inspiring. Your dedication has been witnessed. Your love story will not go untold. <3 

We have started a GoFundMe Campaign on my dad's behalf. Please consider sharing it on social media.

Visit With My Parents (incredibly long... you've been warned)

Yesterday, I got to visit with my parents. It was the first time I have seen them in a month. Due to seeing the pictures my sisters have taken, my dad looked much as I expected. There *were* still visible changes. His entire head looks smaller, for instance. He's lost over a dozen pounds. You can tell that immediately. He's smaller every time we see him. His bones protrude more as time goes on. His legs are thin and birdlike now, too, though still appropriate length to his frame. His broad shoulders are still broad but now they are also very thin. He swims in his clothing.

I put myself under a lot of pressure to go see him. I couldn't stand waiting so long when I miss him so terribly! I kept crying in random bursts that came more frequently the longer the space between visits became. I am trying not to be a fear-based person, I really am. The issues that I live with make that very hard to accomplish. (I am working on it!) These things added to my grief about our time apart.

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My One and Only Dad <3 

My goal was to visit with him without crying. I just wanted to go in with energy and light and be a breath of fresh air. I wanted to soak him in like I do with my kids. You know how you inhale deeply on top of those precious heads? Oh, how I wanted to bask in the love of my dad!

I wanted to see my dad and help my mom, at the same time. My husband and children really stepped up and made both of things possible. I was able to do a little bit of laundry and cut my mom's hair while they dusted the house and Giraffe started dishes I finished not too long after. Koala had never dusted before, so that was extra cute!! She was *so* proud of herself! She kept asking Granna to look at her dusting! <3 <3 <3 

My Pretty Mama

I got time to sit and talk with my dad, too. We were very careful about not bringing in pet dander. As careful as we could be, at any rate. We put the clothes we were going to wear into the laundry here at home and did not remove them until we were dressing to leave. We made sure not to touch or sit down on anything in the house. We dressed and went out to the car. We also brought along lint rollers, taking a minute to roll ourselves all over before we went in. I kept rolling off and on the entire visit. Giraffe rolled lint from the couch and Hubs vacuumed before we left. We didn't want Mom to have to do these things. That pet hair is tricky stuff! lol

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When we got in and removed our shoes, I wanted to hug Dad tight and never let go. It is hard for him to breathe, though, and I practically had him smothered in my sweater so I had to stop. It felt so good to get ahold of him!

He wasn't able to stand for my hug, which I did not expect. That was especially rough. I was planning on getting as close as I could to those massive bear hugs that I have had so often before. He gives the very best hugs! Even so, I gave him the best hug I could from my position bent over the recliner. I snuck in additional snuggles during the visit by leaning over the back of the recliner to get access to his head and shoulders. I let my fingers linger along the back of his neck and head, drawing in the feel and smell of my precious daddy's head. These sensations must last. I am going to need them!

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Goodness. These words seem so inadequate! I am trying to work up to how I felt... how I feel... about the visit. I just can't seem to get there. Every emotion was so intense. Every minute so inescapably valuable. I need to be able to express it properly but I cannot seem to do it justice. 

I am writing this blog as a permanent way to chronicle this experience. Should my dad pass to Glory, I know that I will want to have it to look back on. I want to remember every minute. This is important, and yet... how do I even describe any of it adequately? :'(

For starters, there are his hands. That was the biggest thing I kept thinking about through the day. I have held my dad's hands off and on for my entire life. They are huge. The younger I was, the larger his hands seemed. They were rough hands that liked to whittle wood, hunt (both traditionally and for ginseng), go fishing, work in a garden, and a hundred other 'manly' things. These are the hands that I grew up holding, that comforted and cared for me as a girl.

The hands I held yesterday are different. They are still huge but they are emaciated. You can see his bones - something that was never possible before. It was hard to get my fingers between his because they are stiff and locked into place. I worried that I was hurting him by interlocking fingers. The rest of the day when I held his hand, I was much more careful and gentle, no intertwining.

His hands are also no longer rough. They are very smooth, to the point of being softer than baby skin. They have the silky feel of someone in their nineties, not someone who is this young. His hands have always been gentle with us but they never specifically felt gentle. Now they do. I couldn't get over how soft and tender his hands are to the touch.  

_______________________________

We arrived in the late morning so we could be in and out early enough to give him time to rest. He was already exhausted when we arrived. He coughs that "I can't breathe" cough. He has us turn the thermostat from warm to cold to freezing to cold over and over, trying to breathe more easily. He spent the first part of the visit tucked into his blanket, laid back, trying to rest since he cannot sleep properly. 

He loved on all of us, taking time with each of my daughters, my husband, and myself. He knows that this time is precious. We all do. <3 <3 <3 

Giraffe especially took extra time to snuggle against his shoulder, holding his hand in hers. She is very aware of what is happening to him but she is very quiet about it. She is showing her support of me in quiet ways around the house. Usually very chatty, she slides silently up next to me and gives me a hug. This child, my beautiful miracle child, is gifting me her support via her presence. I could see that this is what she was doing with her Papa and Granna yesterday. Her love language is physical touch, like mine. She is putting herself physically into spaces filled with emotion. My heart swelled watching her. :') 

At one point, just before she put on her shoes and coat, he sat up in his recliner to give her a proper goodbye hug. He stopped her a moment after, held her hands in his, looked deeply into her eyes, and said slowly and deliberately,

"Always remember that you are Papa's pretty girl." 

That simple statement almost leveled me. You see, Papa has seventeen grandbabies. From the time they are born, he tells them upon every contact that they are Papa's boy or Papa's girl. Every single time he talks to them on the phone, he asks, "Are you Papa's girl?" or "Are you Papa's boy?" There has never been a time where that question wasn't met with an enthusiastic, "Yes, I AM!!" My soul, help me, God! This seemed like he was making good and sure that she knows how deeply she is loved, just in case...   

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I resist the idea of taking photos. I do not like the thought that we are now taking our photos deliberately because we will someday want to reflect on every moment we possibly can. I am intensely uncomfortable associating these mementos with eventual death. The mere thought makes me want to intentionally avoid cameras, it so affects me. I want to keep every second held privately in my heart.

Even so, I knew that I would regret it if I did not take some pictures. We transformed special private moments to visible with Hubs' camera phone. I was immediately grateful we took them. :) The faces of my parents and children smiling back at me do my heart a world of good! I will continue to cherish and share these photos for years to come, I am sure.

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I am going to step back in time a pinch to provide some context to what I am about to tell you next. 

My Koala is still so little. She noticed her big sister getting her Bible signed by Papa at Christmas. That same week, she had Daddy take her out to the Dollar Tree with her tiny purse and few dollars. We were proud to let her spend a little money. We assumed that she would hit the toy section as hard as a little one can. :)

You know, that little tyke walked into the store, found a wee Bible, paid for it herself and walked back out. :) Daddy offered to let her buy toys with her remaining dollars. Nothing doing, she was there for a Bible and that was it. :) From there, she spent the rest of the month bringing it to me periodically and telling me that her Papa needs to sign it for her. <3 <3 <3 

Yesterday, I was careful to remember to bring along her little Bible. Dad had to use a very large, heavy pen pressed between his thumb and the bone of his pointer finger. It is very difficult for him to hold a pen but he did so- painstakingly - just so my littlest little and I could have his signature.

You see, when we were young, my sisters and I thought it was fun to collect the signatures of preachers who passed through. My dad being our own pastor, the first signature was naturally his. He had some of the most beautiful handwriting you have ever seen from a man. He always placed his favorite verse - Jeremiah 33:3 - beneath it. "Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and show thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not." Oh, how we are calling on Almighty God on behalf of my dad!!!

When I was a teen, someone I worked with asked to borrow my Bible. She was unfamiliar with religion and was curious to read it for herself. I sent it home with her that same day. She never came back. She quit work, effectively stealing my Bible. It wasn't until this past Thanksgiving when my little nieces and nephews were all getting their Bibles signed by Papa that I thought to look into my other Bible for his beloved signature. It wasn't there. :'( 

Nowadays, his signature is more precious and coveted than ever before. This is why it means so much to me that he took the time and considerable effort to sign my new Bible for me. His signature has definitely changed. However, his favorite verse is still there, as it always has been, and his love is stronger than ever before.

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I did well through the visit. All too soon it was time to leave. Some part of me wishes that I could have stayed the day. However, dad doesn't just get 'tired' by receiving company. It can literally affect his ability to walk at all. :'( If that isn't incentive to keep it short, I do not know what is.

Before we left, I sat down to hold his hand one more time and try to somehow express my love for him. It was then that I had a bit of a panic attack and burst into tears. What if I never see him again?!?! What if this was the last time on this earth?!?!? I couldn't stand that! I couldn't handle for these to be the last moments, the last hug, the last time holding his hands! How unthinkable the future is when reflected upon in those terms. All I could manage was to sob and gasp out, "It isn't enough! It isn't enough!" :'(

Dad pressed the button which lowered the legs of his chair and placed him in a seated position. I went to my knees and scooped as much of him into my arms as I could get and wept over him. He held me as best he could. I tried to stop the tears and backed away so that I wouldn't crush him. Panic hit my heart again and I dropped again, slumped on the floor, weeping directly into his lap like a child. These moments hurt so much! This reality hurts too much!! I want my dad back, healthy, tall, and the strongest man alive!!! I don't want to leave! Please don't make me leave!! More, don't let *him* leave me!!!

My parents were so gracious about my outbursts. Like so often when I was little, they held me, comforted me, loved me, and talked me through it. I was able to take my seat and resume our conversation. Somewhere in there, Hubs got the girls into coats and shoes and out to the car. I stood, made my way to the door to retrieve my shoes and say a few more words before finally leaving, myself.

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I promised my dad to keep the faith. He wants us to pray for total healing or for a mercifully quick entrance to Heaven. He doesn't want the middle ground. He doesn't want to spend long days wasting away inside his own body. :'( 

It is hard to see him so set on having a full life or a quick death. He believes that he is a burden to my mother and there is no convincing him otherwise. :'( If he is, he is a burden borne with great love. Any of us would do this for any other. My family is not short on love and adoration.

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During my time with him, I asked what we can do to make his life easier. What can we do to help tame the monster that is ALS? How can we make this journey he is on more bearable? His answer was indicative of his character:

"Help your mom. Help your mom get through this. Be there for her. Give her a break." :'( :'( :'( Wonderful man, my father. 

I promised, of course, and I will do my level best to keep that promise. My sweet and generous mother-in-love stands ready to watch my children so I can stay with my parents for a couple of days here and there. We are just waiting for the word.

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Hubs, the girls, and I were all pooped yesterday after just our short visit and the drive time. I don't know how my parents are doing this. Their ability to push through, day after day, seems otherworldly. Life with ALS seems like the longest slow-motion accident ever. We are seeing the damage up close, frame-by-frame, as it happens. We are witnessing the life-altering damage it causes as spectators with no small amount of horror. 

We are witnessing something else, too. We are seeing a man, who has spent decades of his life preaching about God the Father, lean so heavily on that same God. We are watching my parents continue to pray without ceasing. We are witnessing my mother, who has been giving and faithful on a whole other level to so many people, continue to give until every fiber of her being is spent - and then keep right on giving. 
 We are watching their continued walk with and growth in the Lord. We are watching this man and woman live out every bit of what they have preached. My dad has worked hard to be a living example. I never doubted for a moment that we would see (although far too soon) him also be a dying example of faith in Jesus Christ. 

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Friends, religion isn't about the building. It isn't about the rules. It is not about leaning one way politically. Religion is not about being better than we were - although, God knows that we do try. Religion is about trusting in Someone far greater than ourselves. It is about knowing that there is something that comes after and preparing for that. It is about a life which is a mere vapor compared to the eternity which our soul will spend beyond the mortal coil. 

A religion that has gone wrong looks like hatred for and strife with the world. Religion fulfilled is a life lived in awareness of and by God's grace. it is in being able to show kindness and love in the face of evil. It is in being able to stand when it is impossible to stand by one's own strength. It is in being able to face death with hope, grace, and dignity.

It is beautiful to see the people my parents have reached out to, touched in some way, or gone to bat for - for decades - reaching back toward them. It means the world to see people help us care for them when they are most in need. Religion fulfilled brings people closer together to bear one another's burdens. We are witnessing this in the lives of my parents.

Leaving my dad yesterday was probably the hardest thing I have ever done regarding him, to date. Trusting God to know what is best for him comes in a close second. I want to fix everything I can in life, especially the suffering of others. I simply cannot do that, in this case. I can only pray, hope, trust, and practice my faith. I simply have to give my dad over to God because there is nothing else to be done. 

Whatever the future holds, I know Who holds tomorrow. 

I know Who holds my dad. <3

We have started GoFundMe Campaign on behalf of my parents. Please consider sharing it on social media.

Fears in the Night - Part 2

Today I ran across an old blog post from my previous blog that blogger will not let me back into. (Grr) It was long but I read through to the end. I do not just relate to it because it happened to me (of course). This journey with my dad suddenly declining into a disease which is fatal has brought up his immortality all over again in a much-too-real way. My thoughts on the matter have not changed. I will *always* need my daddy to pray with me in the middle of the night when I wake up afraid. 

---------------------------Fears in the Night - January 12, 2011---------------------

Fears in the night

Life is so tricky, isn't it? The way we experience rises and falls in circumstance. Tonight, in part due to a bad dream I had earlier in the week, finds me revisiting the events of last November, and where I am emotionally at this moment because of them. 

The bad dream I had was directly related to my dad's heart condition and the fact that he is most decidedly not immortal. I have never thought seriously that any of us live forever, but there is a veil of immortality that surrounds our parents, so long as we do not have to see them in weakened condition. When my dad first went into the hospital it was all about being in survival mode. Matter of fact dealing with it. However, the Monday morning he had the heart cath procedure done to determine blockage in his heart and kidneys (he has both but not high enough to require immediate surgery) that veil fell completely off of my eyes and I was truly afraid. 

It has been around six or seven weeks since then, and most of the time I do not even think about dad's heart condition, beyond the immediate concerns of taking his medication and how he is feeling/doing whenever we call. This week has been different, thanks to that bad dream. It was a short one, but it was my mom calling to tell us that dad had passed in a heart attack. She sounded better than I knew she was doing and said not to worry about dad being in pain because he was ready to go and went quickly. He had been standing one minute and simply fallen over, already in Heaven the next.

That was it. No long dream about what happens next, just that. It was enough, though, and thoroughly rattled me. I got up and called my parents, feeling a little leftover terrified from the dream and needing reassurance, but also feeling guilty. I did not want to tell them why I was calling; I especially did not want to tell my dad why I was calling. It seemed an awkward thing to open with, you know? Both of them answered, though, on speaker phone, as is their custom of late. I usually really enjoy that, b/c it is great to talk to both of them, but of course, it startled me a little bit that morning. 

I tried to sound casual and asked how they were doing, but of course being raised to be completely honest with my parents and to this day still unable (or unwilling?) to keep any part of my life from them, I did end up mentioning the dream. 

That is what has me writing this blog tonight. I was able, like so many times in the past, to call on my mom and dad for a bad dream and get reassurance. That is what brought me back to the night before his heart procedure... a night when I was unable to sleep, and when I began to cry over the events of the weekend leading up to that night because all of the times in my life when I was deeply upset in the middle of the night - upset enough to need someone to speak to me and pray with me (other than Chris) - I have always, always called my dad. That night while he lay sleeping in the hospital, prepared for anything up to and including meeting his Maker, I was awake in my bed and could not call my daddy to pray with me.

Tonight I spoke with my mom. She mentioned that dad now has a crease in his ear. I did not know what that meant, so she explained that they had checked his ears at the hospital because a crease can be a visible precursor to a heart attack or something like that. I looked it up online and learned that some recent study (after years of it being a thought but not fact) links the crease in the earlobe 'alarmingly' to the sudden death of the patients, regardless of age, obesity, or even being skinny.

I know in my rational mind that this does not mean my dad will be dropping dead tonight or tomorrow. He may not go to Heaven for weeks, months or even more likely, years. This fact does not change the realization (all over again) that as normal as life gets, as hard as I try to erase a dream, my daddy is not immortal. I cannot reconcile that and I will spend every minute after posting this blog not thinking about it, but there it is. For this moment in this day, I am grieving just a little. There will come another night in the future when I will need my dad to calm my fears and he will not be there. 

Who in your life is immortal? Who do you take for granted every day? Do you sometimes leave "I love you" unsaid, or spoken as a hurried goodbye? The Bible says that none of us are guaranteed tomorrow. So right now, right this minute or as soon after this as you are able, call that person. Call them or go to them and let them know what a valuable part of your life they are. 

If my hunch is correct, each of us will also be making that same call via prayer to our Heavenly Father. Because come the night when there is no one there to solace our hearts, He is the father who will always still be there. Fears in the night are real, whether you are a child or have the occasional one as an adult. The unchanging factor of comfort to calm those fears is Jesus Christ, our Heavenly Father. 

MND - Motor Neuron Disease and My Dad (Dec 15, 2016)

****I posted this to FB on December 15th, hours before learning more about my dad's condition. I was told to write down what we are going through. I had done some already, so these first several posts are from that. By the time I posted this, it had become clear to me that people understood that "something" was wrong with my dad, but not "what". Indeed, the information we pass along is fragmented, because we are, ourselves, learning as we go. As of this day, we knew that my dad had an MND... a motor neuron disease. This was how I expressed that to friends and family.****

December 15th:

It is sometimes hard to explain what an MND is in simple terms. Days like today, I am too emotional to put it all into words anyway. So, if you find yourself wondering what is happening to my dad, think about Stephen Hawking. *That* is what is happening. It is a disease affecting specifically the motor nerves. Whether or not it is specifically determined to be ALS, *that* is what is happening in his body. It is closing in on him. This is why his body is 'stopping' on itself, even though he is fully mentally capable and will remain so. 

MND's are progressive and incurable. Eventually, his lungs will quit breathing. This is not me being pessimistic. This is fact. He already struggles with breathing now, which is one more reason we are all so affected and scared. The thing is, my dad doesn't have Stephen Hawking money. (ETA: Hawking has a slowly progressing type of ALS which contributes to his shockingly long life. I did not know that at the time of posting this. My apologies.) We are all dedicated to figuring out how to give him the best care we can, though. Count on that. 

God is big. He is mighty. He will see us through. That said, we are going to need all of the love and care we can get - but especially my parents. Don't talk about them: talk *to* them. Show them love and grace, even as you pray for love and grace on their behalf. This is a stressful, exhausting, overwhelming, and lonely time. May the Lord get the glory in all things.