"To bring the sublime into the mundane is the greatest challenge there is."
Pir vilayat Inayat Khan
I lie in the cot beside his bed and listening to my dad - grateful for the rhythmic breathing.
He was restless this morning with some bouts of apnea. A couple of times I had to sit up to see over the bed rail and check the movement of his chest. I figured out a way I could hold his hand through the bar. I wanted to crawl into bed with him. I wanted to hold his head in my lap and rock him. I decided it was better to let him find whatever comfort he could in the bed by himself as I'm just not sure there is enough room for both of us. Didn't know how I'd explain to the nurse that I dropped my father on the floor.
A great doctor came by today. She put dad on a morphine pump so he gets medicated on a more equal basis over the course of 24 hours - no ups and downs as the meds are injected. I think this was a good plan. He's been very comfortable.
I've been thinking a lot today about how the Divine One works miracles right in front of you but if you're not looking you might miss them. I'm not really talking about trees, or the sunrise or snow covered wonderlands though every day nature provides beautiful miracles for the taking. I'm more thinking about how you're going in one direction and suddenly there's a fork in the road and you think you're deciding which path to take, but really it's the Divine GPS that is showing you the way to go.
On Thursday when I asked for a consultation with the Hospice team doc and nurse, I kind of thought I'd need some outside help - a sitter, or nurse - to spell me. Didn't really consider inpatient as an option. I can see now why they wanted Dad to come here. He needed much more help than I could provide. I know people die at home, and I that was our intent all along. But coming here was such a blessing. Everyone is kind, gentle, compassionate and willing to take whatever measure they need to provide Dad, and me, with the comfort we seek. The cocktail of narcotics he's on seemed extreme in the beginning. But I see how peacefully Dad slumbers and I find my heart full of gratitude not regret. God knew this was where we should be. I'm really, really glad I didn't try to go my own way.
Wishing for you everyday miracles,