Just When It Was Supposed To Be A Happy Ending... (Part 3)

Dad was incapable of moving around on his own for that week. We had to carry him around in a wheelchair.

But it wasn't permanent. Eventually, his ankle, which had been sprained after all, got better, and things are almost back to how it was before last Thursday.

But something bothered me...

While Dad was in the wheelchair, I remember, we got our christmas tree and set it up, and began to work on the ornaments. I remember getting out Dad's first Christmas ornament and hanging it up. Dad, from his wheelchair, watched intently. I realized that no matter what happens, Gary is never going to be hanging ornaments again.

That may seem like a small revelation, but the terrible part of it is that it also means I know he won't ever be able to do so many other things. He's too handicapped to ride a bike, communicate, jump, you name it, he'd need help to do it.

So all this worries me.
I feel like we're running out of time.
And we've got no way of getting it back.

I've seen people pray and hope for Dad's health and recovery, but I know that things are beyond that. I hope that Dad dies dignified and proud, feeling good about everything that he's left about. Let's hope for that.