The Hardest Part

I am sitting here this morning.

There is a lot not said in that simple statement. Let me fill in the "unsaids."

My father is in surgery as I write this. He is in Jacksonville. I am here.

I sent out this little email that my sister sent to me that asked for one word that the person responding would use to describe you.

My responses were...

Dedicated

Caregiver

Dedicated daughter *I know this is 2 words*

I think out of all the responses back I got it was only my daughter that said something different than the above. She said *amazing.* Her response was my favorite.

I told her that in a way I was offended by my responses. What about *witty* *fun* *happy* *insightful*? I asked her "Is this all that I am now?"

She, of course, said, "Mom, you're reading WAY too much into this. They meant this as compliments."

I know this.

I sit here this morning, waiting...

Waiting to find out how everything went. Waiting to find out he is fine. Waiting for my world to turn again.

The truth of the matter is, I am a caregiver.

And because of circumstances today I sit here, and he is there, and I feel helpless and out of control. What if they have a question my brother doesn't know the answer to? What if he doesn't understand the lingo when they finally come out to tell him how Dad is? What if there is a problem tonight and he needs me, or something happens on the way home from the hospital?

Though I have not yet had any rest, and I didn't rest yesterday thinking about today, I feel nausea rise up as I contemplate getting ready and making the 3 hour trip just so I can see with my own eyes he is OK.

Crazy, huh?

Yea, I know.

But I will wait here on the Lord, and I am of good courage, knowing He will strengthen my heart.