This weekend, Dad is visiting.

To begin this day, I was able to spend some extra time just talking to him as he sat at the kitchen island having breakfast.

We talked about life in the near future, his transition from the 9th floor apartment to our home in a new city, a new environment. We talked about sorting and packing and finishing projects at the apartment and around the house.

We shared the morning devotions.

Dad asked what he could do around the house to help out. I pulled out the red “grease rag” that has been the Angela/Rhonda dust rag since we were on Mom’s knee, along with a can of Behold, the dust on the furniture taking notice of potential cleaning.

Sweet moments, these were this morning. Usual mornings are quiet and serene, me alone in the kitchen to gather my egg and put fruit in my bag for work, me alone to spend some time with God, me alone to daydream as I watch out the window at the wakening world outside.

But this morning, I enjoyed moments with my Dad.

Sweet moments to relish. Sweet moments to appreciate. Sweet moments to not take for granted. Nothing spectacular. Nothing other than ordinary. But moments that are special and extraordinary, because it is time with my Dad that I cannot replace. Every moment counts.

And for that, I am grateful.

I am also grateful for the moments that my brother has taken to spend time in the apartment, watching the Royals or KU basketball with Dad, taking Dad to Juco games or high school football games. I am grateful for the moments that he has spent with Dad under the hood of a car, or teaching Dad how to navigate on the computer. I am grateful for the moments that my sister has taken to travel with Dad to London or to Washington D.C. I am grateful for the moments she has spent on the road to the apartment in order to spend the night in a recliner and have breakfast the next morning with Dad or go with him to visit family. I am grateful that SHE is the one who volunteered to play golf with him in 30 degree weather.

There will be moments in 2015 that will test us, that will challenge us, that will most likely make us question, at least for a moment, the decision to consolidate. There will also be moments that will make us laugh and throw up our hands and wonder, “Who knew?!”  Moments that will make us cry. Moments we will not want to end. But, I am grateful that my Dad is going to live with us soon, that I will have the privilege to have dedicated time with my Daddy once again.

As I reflected and read about Mom’s final journey today, I was reminded of Joe’s quote and how relevant it is for this season in our lives, in Dad’s life:

Sweet Moments – January 23, 2013

“You will never regret what you have done for your Mom, but you will always regret what you haven’t done for your Mom.” – Joe Schmucker, Hospice nurse
The apartment can be stuffy. Of course, an apartment made for two is not as comfortable when there are 4-20 people milling around. A small kitchen is not the most desirable place to serve meals for a crowd, and when a nap is needed, there aren’t many choices for a secluded area away from the constant visiting.

But the best place to be these days is a stuffy apartment made for two. The best place to be is where Mom is. The best place to be is where Dad is. And I will never regret the time spent here in the last week. I will never regret the memories being made with my brother, sister, and parents. The sweet moments of rallying around each other and just being together with Mom are PRICELESS.

There have been many sweet moments in the past few days.  

• A smile on her face as she opens her eyes and recognizes the person standing at her bed.

• Her concern that Dad is eating and getting rest.

•  Pure and total devotion for my Mom in everything Dad does and says.

• A daughter-in-law who is caring for her mother-in-law with such tender loving care.

• Dwight making a bee-line from the front door to the hospital bed every time he arrives.

• The apartment building custodian showing such concern for our family.

• Reading emails that are full of memories of Mom’s servant hood, service, and silliness.

• The peace that only Jesus can give that is felt as family sits and waits and shares with each other.

• Her desire to once more sleep in her own bed next to her husband.

• Numerous members of the extended Ferguson family who have traveled distances to come and support the family and love on Mom and Dad.    

• Mom expressing her desire to see Natia, her dog, one more time.

• Hearing that her great-granddaughters are praying for GG to not be sick.

When awake, Mom still recognizes everyone and calls for us by name. She has quit eating anything of substance, although when she tried a bite of blended roast and potatoes from Aunt Estalene, she indicated it was delicious and said, “Delmar, try it.” She’s still attempting to get her vegetarian husband to eat meat. That’s my Mom.
        
Last night, she had a restless night. As I listened to my sister describe the details, I was reminded of one of Mom’s favorite songs that she told me she really wanted her granddaughter Karissa to sing someday: 

I will never regret this time or these sweet moments…    

– Rhonda

I love that my Dad is young and active and living life and not letting life pass him by. I love that he is beginning a new chapter of life and is taking a chance and stepping outside the comfort zone to do something new. I love that we will be a small part of the next chapter. I love that he enjoys being with my husband. I love that my Daddy and I have interests in common and enjoy being around each other.

For all of that and much more this weekend, I am so grateful.