My dad is sick.
His diagnosis came mid September. Adenocarcinoma. We were praying for lymphoma. Have you ever prayed that your dad would have lymphoma? I never thought I would. But that one is treatable.
He went from healthy to not in a matter of weeks.
I keep telling God, "Please. You have to show up big."
And He does.
My dad isn't scared. "You can't scare me with Heaven." He's been telling everyone. I've been telling everyone.
My mom is his constant companion. She's not scared either. The worst thing that can happen is also the best thing that can happen.
My sisters and I spend most of our time at his feet. Rubbing his feet. He likes that. We do, too.
We're kind of wrecked. He's pretty much the best dad, ever.