This post strays away from the usual sweet treats and marvelous locations, however there is a story to tell and a lesson that I have learned over the past 5 weeks that I know will stay with me forever, and I hope might encourage you as you read it.
Sunday 20 January, my brother arrived at my front door with the news that my dad had had a heart attack. The unknown was frightening, we waited in anticipation for my mum to let us know the latest and sooner than later we knew that he was in an ambulance on his way to Umhlanga Hospital. All was under control and with the help of great doctors and caring ICU staff dad survived the heart attack. Overwhelmed by what had happened we celebrated that he would be home within a week and on the road to recovery.
But as life would have it, the unimaginable happened, on Friday 25 January at about 4am my dad had a bilateral stroke. Both the left side and the right side of his brain were affected. We were devastated. Once again the unknown surged fear through our bodies. He was back in ICU and the Neurologist warned us that he may never be the same man again. Tears streamed down my face for days. Paul had been in Australia and got an early flight back to be with the family. All we could do was have faith.
This is a story of faith!
My dad had endured a biological war and no one knew what the outcome would be. But he defied all odds and every therapist that saw him couldn’t believe how progressive his healing was.
On one occasion while praying for my dad in ICU we saw his lips moving and a tear spilled from his closed eye, at that moment we knew he too was praying. He was fighting and he knew that he would make it through this if he clung to faith.
For a man that had a heart attack and 2 strokes in one week, he is a miracle! He has no paralysis to his body, he is strong and his balance is almost back to normal. We were warned that he may not regain his memory, however every day we saw truth that his memory was coming back. I recall leaving the hospital with such a sad heart one day, my dad had asked me if Paul and I would ever get married. My dad couldn’t remember my wedding day and my heart broke. But God is good and a week later, out of the blue, my dad said that he remembered eating the delicious soup outside the beautiful venue. My heart jumped for joy. Day by day memories like this have started coming back to him.
On Friday 22 February my dad went home. His therapy has only just started but with faith and perseverance we know that he will regain all his cognitive function and he will once again be able to work, drive and live a life with an incredible story to tell.
The past 5 weeks have been filled with emotions, up and down, all over the place emotions. Life has been turned upside down, a lot of normal is not so normal anymore. It is so easy to get bogged down by all of this. Even last night I found myself lying in bed, angry at the world. Why did this happen? What’s the point? Well there will be a point… one day. Until then however, we have to have faith, we have to hope in the good to come, and we have to stand by each other and support one another as best we can. No it won’t always be easy… but he is alive and we are thankful for this each new day!
My dad is a fighter, he knows that God is good, and he holds on to this truth every day. His faith is most certainly what defied all the odds of what could have happened to him. His story of faith is just beginning and I cannot wait to watch it unfold.