my champion.

So my dad had open heart surgery this week.
I was worried, and sad.
It was not a great week for me, and in other ways it was a perfectly great week.
But he is okay.
Thank you Jesus!

He's way over In Brazil.
And I'm in the middle of nowhere.
In the heart of the valley.
disconnected, connected, I can't decide- mood swings I guess.

I miss my mom's cooking and company.
I miss my dad's insight and quietness.
I used to try to make him talk all the time.
But now I'm just trying to learn from him how to be quiet.
I'm his apprentice- I'm sure he doesn't know.

I'm all over the place.
I'm giving myself permission to be just so.

Sometimes, I fantasize of never speaking with words again.
Only communicating with facial expressions and hand gestures.
Like a statue.
If one of my kids were crying, I would reach out...they would run to me, we would freeze in time, and be silent.
Or, I could sit and think all the time.
Like Abe Lincoln in that big chair.
Everyone can tell he's thinking of great things.
He is soft, wise, and responsible.
His slightly heavy brow makes you trust him.
He looks like he'll speak when he's ready,
and throw is head back in laughter if you say something really funny.
My dad is like that.
He could hush a crowd with a slide of his hand.
And they would listen.
He is steadfast.
He is a chief.
He is a father to whomever needs one.
His eyes are kind, and make him undeniably his mother's child.
He is a statue with a heart of flesh and blood.
He is a champion.
He is my champion.