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| Photo by Kim Ui Jin on Unsplash |
It had been ten days since the cardiac surgery and Rachel's father was still very quiet. The long incision was healing, he was already able to eat and walk down the hall but he wouldn't speak. He was tired, the nurses said.
For Rachel to see her father speechless was unusual. He had already been born talking. He had an opinion on everything. Therefore, his silence began to disturb her.
The days passed and there was no improvement. One afternoon, Rachel was sitting next to him barely holding back her tears. She looked at his father - his body was there, walking, eating, healing - but he was somewhere else.
Anguished, Rachel took a bottle of hand lotion, went to the front of the bed, discovered her father's feet and started massaging them. He remained motionless. Without the strength to see him in that state, Rachel fixed her eyes on her own feet and after a while, started talking to her father.
She reminded him what they did together when she was very young. How he spent hours pushing the swing in the park. The first day he took her to school and stood on the stairs, waving, smiling and taking pictures.
Rachel remembered the day when she broke her arm and he ran out to take her to the doctor. She remembered the lullabies with which he rocked her and the many times she fell asleep in his strong, protective arms.
She remembered the many hours he had spent doing her homework. From the night when, wearing a rented tuxedo, he drove her and her date to the high school prom.
She reminded him about the long trip to the University. How they had both cried when he left and about the many encouragement calls he had given her until she got over it.
She remembered when she hugged him, right after graduation from medical school and he said: "Daughter, now you are a big girl".
Finally, Rachel recalled the conversation they had had the week before the surgery, in which he had given her numerous pages of instructions on what to do if he did not return alive from the operating room. But you didn't die, Dad. Rachel stressed. You survived it.
Then, one of the feet moved. She looked up and saw her father looking at her intently. The expression of paralysis, of freezing, was gone. Suddenly, he threw his head back and laughed. And spoke. He spoke after that eternity of those days:
I am an old bone, hard to crack. But I think I'm a good father. What would you do without me?
Others need us
Sometimes our lives are strengthened by the discovery that others need us.
Sometimes our lives are strengthened when we discover that our love is important to someone in a way we could not imagine.
Sometimes our lives are strengthened just by knowing that someone loves us exactly as we are.
Final Thoughts
Never stop touching those you love. Touch with your hands, your heart and your soul. Show them that you love, that you care.
Just like the flower that needs crystal water in the precious jug in order to stay alive, love needs fuel. And the fuel of love is called affection, tenderness, devotion.
