I originally posted this back in March, but I think I had around 10 followers then, so chances are good you never read it. I’m currently typing this at the side of my father’s bed. He looks peaceful. His breathing is steady. His color is good. He looks like someone recovering from surgery or an illness…but I know he is not recovering. I know his breaths will soon become farther spaced until they eventually stop.
I arrived home at a perfect time. He was still conscious then and was able to smile at me and tell me he loved me…a few hours later and that would not have been the case. So many of you are writing to me with sweet words of encouragement and questions as to how I am doing. I obviously hate everything about this, but I am okay. I was so well loved by my father, and I feel the love from my Heavenly Father. Thank you for your prayers. They are holding me up.
Liquid skies of fuchsia bubbling over blue,