My parents. They have been together a long time. And they've loved each other a long time.
But things haven't always been perfect in their marriage. Just like all marriages, hard times come, and sad times, too. And there are things like right now, that are completely out of their control.
My father gets up in the morning, after sleeping only a few hours, if at all. He gets up and checks my mother, who is just waking up. He helps her to the door, and out to the car. They head to the hospital, or the doctor, whichever she needs at the moment.
No one can tell her why she's so sick. Specialists, doctors, nurses, biopsies, blood tests, scans. They are in the dark.
And it's driving her to a sadness I've never seen before.
My father calls me and tells me she had a better night, and I feel like we've won the lottery.
I sit alone, after the call, going over in my mind how this will all end. I hear my children in the room, laughing and playing and singing. They asked Heavenly Father in their prayers this morning to help her.
I imagine my father in the middle of the night, checking on her every hour- his head hanging in his hands, his mind swirling with worry. I imagine him silently praying that God will take care of her.
I hear a soft love song playing on the radio in the background, and it makes me think of my parents. It reminds me of happier times, easier times. It makes me think of their love story. The old, romantic stories they used to tell us flow into my mind and I feel my heart ache. Why can't we go back there again?
My mind goes back to old photos of them, smiling or laughing together, and I can no longer fight crying.
Those faded pictures run through my mind over and over again. I remember waking up as a little girl, and hearing their voices from their bedroom. Laughing, talking about their children- talking about life. I'd lie in bed and take it in. I loved waking up to their voices.
How I long to wake up to it now.
I remember my mother sitting across the room from my father as he strummed his guitar and sang those old country songs. She'd smile and wink at him, and tell him he was the best singer she'd ever heard.
So now, we wait. We wait for the results to come in and for the final word.
I'll feed my children lunch and then I'll pick up the phone and dial her number. Then I'll ask my dad if they want dinner.
He'll say no, that he's taking care of dinner for them. But what he doesn't tell me is that he isn't just taking care of dinner. He's doing everything. Every little thing for her.
Because he loves her.
Because he isn't giving up on her.
Because although he may not sing those old country songs for her anymore, he's singing her a different song now.
Because they may not be young anymore like in those old faded pictures, but they are still in love.
And right now, it's the perfect kind of love.
But things haven't always been perfect in their marriage. Just like all marriages, hard times come, and sad times, too. And there are things like right now, that are completely out of their control.
My father gets up in the morning, after sleeping only a few hours, if at all. He gets up and checks my mother, who is just waking up. He helps her to the door, and out to the car. They head to the hospital, or the doctor, whichever she needs at the moment.
No one can tell her why she's so sick. Specialists, doctors, nurses, biopsies, blood tests, scans. They are in the dark.
And it's driving her to a sadness I've never seen before.
My father calls me and tells me she had a better night, and I feel like we've won the lottery.
I sit alone, after the call, going over in my mind how this will all end. I hear my children in the room, laughing and playing and singing. They asked Heavenly Father in their prayers this morning to help her.
I imagine my father in the middle of the night, checking on her every hour- his head hanging in his hands, his mind swirling with worry. I imagine him silently praying that God will take care of her.
I hear a soft love song playing on the radio in the background, and it makes me think of my parents. It reminds me of happier times, easier times. It makes me think of their love story. The old, romantic stories they used to tell us flow into my mind and I feel my heart ache. Why can't we go back there again?
My mind goes back to old photos of them, smiling or laughing together, and I can no longer fight crying.
Those faded pictures run through my mind over and over again. I remember waking up as a little girl, and hearing their voices from their bedroom. Laughing, talking about their children- talking about life. I'd lie in bed and take it in. I loved waking up to their voices.
How I long to wake up to it now.
I remember my mother sitting across the room from my father as he strummed his guitar and sang those old country songs. She'd smile and wink at him, and tell him he was the best singer she'd ever heard.
So now, we wait. We wait for the results to come in and for the final word.
I'll feed my children lunch and then I'll pick up the phone and dial her number. Then I'll ask my dad if they want dinner.
He'll say no, that he's taking care of dinner for them. But what he doesn't tell me is that he isn't just taking care of dinner. He's doing everything. Every little thing for her.
Because he loves her.
Because he isn't giving up on her.
Because although he may not sing those old country songs for her anymore, he's singing her a different song now.
Because they may not be young anymore like in those old faded pictures, but they are still in love.
And right now, it's the perfect kind of love.
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