dad

My dad is the best man I know. Seriously, he is a person that you want to be friends with, someone you'd be lucky to have in your corner. He's taught me the best lessons. Like, "it all comes home to you" and "the whole world hates a liar and a thief". He has taught me through example and through his words that the whole world loves and respects a hard worker, a kind word, a warm smile, a strong constitution. He has shown me the secret happiness of being a giver. He told me once, "Jenny, you are going to spend your money somewhere, it may as well be for someone you love." Yesterday Doug said of my dad, "if he only had a dollar and you needed it, somehow he'd find a way to give you two." And not only that, it would be his joy to do so. Never would you feel like a burden or obligation even if you weren't his daughter. I'm not sure that my dad has ever met a stranger. He is a poet and a story-teller and one who laughs and listens to your stories. He is warm and kind and strong and funny. A great night of entertainment for him would be sitting around, telling stories, maybe singing a few songs, telling some tall tales and having a beer or two. Everyone I know loves my dad. There really is no one like him.

Humor, hard-working, capable, athletic, generous, good-looking, loving, kind, these are the words that I want to use when I speak about my dad.

Not pulmonologist, oncologist, lymph node biopsy, prognosis, further-testing. But these are the words I have to use right now when speaking about my dad. And it makes me so sad that my whole body shakes when I cry, and so scared that sometimes I feel like I can't breathe.

This blog is All About Sam, and so is this post because Sam NEEDS his PaPa. I thought the worst wait of my life was waiting to bring Sam home. I was wrong. It is waiting to find out how sick his PaPa is. Please, if you read this, and you pray, please pray for Sam's PaPa, please pray for my dad.