holding hands.

i walked down the hallway holding my dad's hand. he was in the emergency room due to the massive fluid constricting his lungs. the pressure was literally killing him. as we were entering the hallway... lined with white walls. white floor. white lights. white linens. i felt my dad grab my hand and squeeze it. it was all i could do to not explode into tears! not to run and crawl into a corner. not to scream at God as to why this is all happening. instead, i remained strong. i walked my dad into his room. he gave my hand three more squeezes and then let go so that he could lay in bed. that is when i exited the room, back down the white on white hallway & broke down.

yesterday they released the pressure of the lung by removing 1600 cc's of fluid (that is about 1 1/2 iv bags of fluid). his pain hasn't subsided and the fluid is starting to increase again. we are waiting. i talk with him on an almost daily basis. sometimes it is about him. sometimes it is about the kids. all the time it is about how God has planned his life from the beginning of time. today he told me to call whenever i could. to yell if i needed to. to cry if i needed. to just sit on the phone if i wanted. he said he wished i was there to be with him. i would never yell at my dad (no regrets right?). i always cry. i don't want to just sit on the phone... i just want to talk. i always want to be there.