Here we are again. Same hospital, different room, different problem. Waiting for test results, doctors, and a miracle. But it’s the season of miracles, isn’t it? We can hope and pray we get one.
Watching dad eat his imaginary food, driving his imaginary cars and speaking in a way no one can understand is heartbreaking to watch. Just last month he was celebrating Thanksgiving at our house and pushing Brenden around in his walker.
In the rare moments that dad is in the present he can still make me laugh. And then I’ll cry because it is a reminder of what was and may never be again.