A Great Blessing

Both of my parents grew up in broken households.  My grandfathers on both sides were lousy men who abandoned their families to drink and gamble at the racetracks.  My mom had three brothers and my dad had five and both of my grandmothers worked two jobs just to make ends-meat, providing for their children.  They grew up on the same street in North Portland, the same street that I spent my early childhood growing up on.

At the age of 23 or 24, my dad's disease hit him at full speed.  Nobody could diagnose what it was, they didn't have a clue.  His joints were failing him, his mobility became extremely limited, and he was in severe pain.  It was attacking his organs, too.  He was set to die by the time I was five.  Of course, I didn't know it then.  

Then, by the grace of God, he found a doctor that could diagnose his disease.  Found some experimental medicine to put him on that would slow down the progression, although it wouldn't be able to cure it.  He'd be in pain for the rest of his life, despite the myriads of pain meds he takes daily.

My dad's a fighter.  So is my mom.  She's stood by him this entire time.  I can only imagine how difficult that must've been for her, early in her marriage, two small kids...

I never knew any of this growing up.  I guess I was just naive.  I knew dad had somesort of disease, but I never knew what it was or what it did to him.  I never knew that as a young child I was so close to losing my dad.

I've only recently come to know about my dad's condition, about how he's had to fight it almost all of his adult life. It's only been recently that I've seen the pain he's in and has been in for his whole life.  

He never let on.  He never let us kids see how worn out he was all the time.  He made so many sacrifices for us and we never saw it.  Never appreciated it.  The same with mom.  She loves him so.

You know, it's been a tremendous grace, this past year, coming to see my parents in a way that I never have before.  They are non-believers, but I can honestly say that I think they are some of the most virtuous people I know.  

Praise God.  I grew up witnessing sacrificial love without even knowing it.  Now I can truly come to appreciate all of the lessons that my parents have and continue to teach me.  In their relationship with each other, in their relationship with me and my brother...  It's such a blessing and one that I've only even really come to recognize here tonight.

I don't know how much longer my dad'll be with us.  That statement sounds a little more serious than it should-- it's not as though he's currently on his death bed.  But his disease has taken it's toll on him.  It's in it's third and final stage, where it's beginning to fuse together all of his joints and will then progress once again to his organs.  In the next few months he'll probably undergo a hip replacement to try and keep mobile for a few more years.  But, according to the progression of the disease, it may be as few as 7-8 years before his organs give way.  Of course, that's barring any new medicines and it also doesn't take into consideration the fight left in my dad.  It could be 15 year-- who knows.  But it could be sooner than that.

Heh.  I didn't intend this post to be about my dad or my family.  In fact, I had been planning to talk more about abandonment... but somehow all of this came out.  I'm glad it did.  It brought to mind how very blessed I've been in my family.  I think I forgot that for a while, during my struggle to find myself.  I guess most teenagers and young adults do.