A Different View

Sherri wrote a very nice article about her father for our upcoming paper newsletter but I wanted to share it with all of you here as well- mostly because I am very proud of my talented writer wife! kp

When mom died, Keith wrote a beautiful story about the week we spent on the cancer floor of Immanuel Hospital. The large window of the family waiting room looked out on the parking lot, surrounded by fields of trees and grass gently covered with snow. He told of the 2000 piece puzzle which we mindlessly worked in an effort to think past the painful reason we gathered. He shared the significance of the single puzzle piece missing at the end of the week when the puzzle lay completed on the table as we grieved the loss of my mom. This past week, I feared that another story would be written about the untimely death of someone I love, my father.

Dad has always been a "health nut". He works out at the YMCA on the treadmill and exercise bikes and lifts weights. His diet usually consists of food considered to be healthy and he certainly keeps the vitamin industry afloat with his lengthy list of supplements. He subscribes to four healthy-living magazines and follows closely the latest trends and medical breakthroughs.

The last two years have been rough on Dad. First he lost Mom. Then his grandson, Christopher. In addition to his mental anguish, his very tall frame (6'7") began to experience some problems. The bones in his neck broke down and resulted in terrible headaches. The discs in his back caused great pain in his legs. He was unable to do many of the things that he enjoyed previously: attending ball games, driving the car and playing golf. He eventually discovered the source of the problems and waited impatiently for the surgeries to cure what ailed him. First Dad had cataract surgery which went very well and gave him 20/20 vision for the first time in 70 years. The neck surgery in May was successful, also, eliminating the headaches. He eagerly awaited the back surgery. The night before, he planned to throw the first pitch at our family softball game, because he felt he could. Dad wasn't sure how quickly he would heal and did not want the season to end without his participation in at least one game, lest he ruin his long-standing record. Unfortunately, we were rained out and he will have to wait until the end of the season to float one home.

The surgery went better than expected and within days he was walking, without pain and without a cane. A few days later, his recovery took an abrupt turn for the worse when he was rushed by ambulance into the hospital, barely able to breathe. After many tests and scary moments, the doctor discovered a large "saddle" pulmonary embolism, bigger than most he had ever seen. The doctor delivered grave news: Dad was very ill; they could not sugar-coat it: the next 2-3 days would be critical.

We discovered many things about embolisms during the hours and days to follow. 50% of all those with pulmonary embolisms die. A vast majority of those with saddle embolisms never make it to the hospital. We credit fast response by family, emergency personnel and doctors and of course, answered prayers, for the miracle that put Dad in ICU instead of the morgue.

The waiting room for ICU was a nice large room, big enough for my 40+ family members, plus the families and friends of other patients. This time, the scenery was not as pleasant as the window looked out onto the roof of another section of the hospital. Boxes of puzzles sat on a table in the corner, untouched. I do not consider myself to be superstitious, yet I was uncomfortable even looking at them that first day. Eventually the fear of repeating the events of Mom's hospital stay lessened and a Star Wars battle scene began to form, piece by piece. Everyone who came to visit took turns searching for the piece which would fit into their designated section. By Sunday night, the puzzle was completed, with the exception of one single piece. The facial expressions of all those present confirmed that we were all thinking the same thought: Coincidence or not, the missing piece had to be found! The entire group began to scan the floor. We all prayed that the piece was hidden under the table leg, or a chair. None of us wanted that puzzle to become a representation of another loss, another missing piece of our family puzzle.

When someone shouted "There it is!" Caleb lunged forward, almost knocking heads with the "finder", and quickly locked it into place and we all shared a collective sigh of relief. Later, as Dad recalled Mom's hospital stay and his great loss just a few floors away, we shared the puzzle story. We wanted to assure him that even though he was in the same hospital; even though his family was gathered together praying for him; even though friends and relatives filtered in and out; even though the doctors could not offer any guarantees, this time was different.

And indeed, this time the miracle we prayed for did happen. This time our news was favorable. This time the end result was the blessed opportunity to spend more time here on earth with my Dad. This time, our puzzle remained intact. This time, the view from the 4th floor thankfully is completely different as we view it through the God-given lens of a healing miracle. This time we return to the ground floor of life with my father healed and my faith strengthened!