God doesn't give us anything on our time frame, he gives it to us on his. The universe trucks on by, regardless of us and our plans.
My dad is fading. Faster and faster everyday. I see pieces of him disappear so quickly I can barely stand to look at him. He is a shell of the man who raised me.
I'm praying that the loss of my grandma will help me through this hard time to come. I'm praying that my father never knows his behavior or feels ashamed or lost. I'm praying that God takes him sooner rather than later because living a life empty isn't really a life at all. There is pain to come that I don't want to even think about. When he forgets me, when he looks in my eyes and there is no spark of mischief or laughter in his own.
I want to scream at God and ask him why? Why must his children suffer so at the end of their life. Why can't they hold onto dignity, and why, oh why did my father have to be struck down with this horrible disease so early.
He's a walking miracle. He was a premie baby born at a time when premies rarely made it. He had a heart condition that could have taken his life at anytime during his childhood. A cancer that so ravaged his body he wasn't even supposed to see my younger brother born. And through all the odds, and suffering, and broken legs he has made it to this day, only to suffer all the more. My father has Vascular Dementia and Alzheimer's, and a part of me really wants to hate God.
Life sucks sometimes, but then I'm sure everyone out there knows it....even God.