| Manna From My Father's Hand Posted on 5/31/2023 I have posted for the past several days on MeWe.com some formative writings which will likely become either a blog, podcast or both, as the Lord directs. An extension of the Manna Blog in many ways. Most of the following concerns the recent loss of my father this past February. I'm posting these here for those who have supported me in so many ways, yet do not personally have access to MeWe posts. I pray that you are blessed.... I realize these posts include extremely personal stories, and not everyone will agree with my opinions or perception. It's simply my story that is on my heart to share, in case others who have similar stories can relate, and get hope and ecouragement that God is able to accomplish all that concerns us, regardless of our difficult circumstances. Originally posted between 5/26 and 6/12/2023 MANNA FROM MY FATHER'S HAND # 1 (5/26/2023) Wow. Where to begin? I guess with a foundational statement right off the bat. Before I share how the pandemic affected my life, it's most important to lift up the name of Jesus, acknowledge His grace, and reiterate something I read in the scriptures this very morning. From Genesis 50:20, when Joseph's brothers were so afraid that he would come after them after their father passed away. He made such a profound and true statement, essentially saying that although they had intended the things they did to him "for evil", that God intended them for GOOD, and for the saving of many lives. That said, many of us (self and my loved ones included) have had difficulties foisted upon us through the events of the past few years. But through it ALL, God has woven His gracious plan throughout, and will surely continue to do so. As I share some of my story in coming posts, I pray that He will encourage you that even these words (if you find them uplifting) would not be spoken here if it weren't for the whole Covid/shot debacle in my life. I'd be contentedly carrying on with my career, not skipping a beat or joining any type of social media, since it had NOT been on my radar or something I even desired at all. Enter the life-change.... As an intro, long story short ... my career as a self employed Music Therapist who worked mostly at Nursing Homes and Assisted Living Facilities took a huge hit in March 2020, when my services were deemed "non-essential". Even though I brought JOY into the lives of so many (since when was joy not essential?), there was a danger that I might spread this virus, so such services were dropped. I totally understood and even agreed, of course NOT wanting to inadvertently spread illness to those I loved so much. Later, even when things started getting a LITTLE bit closer to "normal", since I didn't agree with the mandates, masking, shots, etc., most of those places wouldn't let me go back to working in those facilities. For these past few years, I've done what I could to serve the Lord in whatever capacity possible (sometimes doing remote work, of course). I sensed that He was actually moving me to do different things, as though He had deliberately moved me OUT of those places for His purposes. Beyond my personal life-change though, and much more poignant is what transpired with my father. I will get more into this, but suffice to say that this is why I even bother with this. His life was extremely valuable to me (and many others), and I think his story deserves to be told. I did send his info to the VAERS website, but still don't know if it ever got posted or even read by those who control such things. Will continue to see if it's up there, but not holding my breath on that one. Anyway, I'm sharing it here, in his honor, and because I believe the Lord may be moving me to start a blog, podcast, membership, group, something, or maybe several things over time, with things I learned from my father as the jumping off point. My Dad was an artist (didn't know what an incredible artist until after he passed away, sadly enough). And my Heavenly Father is THE Artist.... So many things I learned through observing my father, that taught me about my Heavenly Father. Perhaps He is the One prompting my sharing.... To begin the story, it was the two year anniversary a couple of days ago (May 23--happened to have put it on my calendar and then saw it there this past Tuesday) when my Dad almost became a "died suddenly" statistic. There were so many people that were just dropping dead out of the blue around that time. He was found on the floor by the police in his home where he lived alone. Thankfully, he survived, although he was in the hospital and rehab for a while. He had lived independently prior to that (in his late 80's, but a very "fit" man), and after his hospitalization, he needed 24 hour care. Although his official diagnosis was different, it seemed pretty obvious to those of us in his family, and then his caregiver, that his symptoms actually were almost identical to "GBS" (Guillain-Barre Syndrome), which was in the news at the time, being a (SUPPOSEDLY) "rare" reaction to the J&J vaccine (which, of course, he had gotten 51 days prior to the day he was found on the floor.) Not close enough to his "shot" administration to be sure it was caused by it, but very suspiciously exhibiting the almost identical very RARE symptoms that were in the news at the exact same time.... Of course his doctor didn't agree with my sibling who later brought it to his attention after our father was eventually out of the hospital, now requiring 24 hour care. God, of course, used the whole situation for good, to be gracious to our Dad, giving him opportunities to see Christ's love in action from his caregiver over the next many months.... I'll continue that story in my next post. Thanks for reading this. As you probably surmise, he did pass away recently, and the past few months of mourning and regrouping are still in process. Surely the Lord continues His good work in my heart, those of my family members, and in YOU and your loved ones too. Let us keep our eyes fixed on Him, (the Author and Perfecter of our faith) who endured the cross for the joy set before Him. He scorned its shame, and now sits at the right hand of the Father, praise His name! (Paraphrasing Hebrews 12:2, check it out!) He can help us to carry on in hope, that He will be with us through it ALL, to the end. Amen, for now. MANNA FROM MY FATHER'S HAND # 2 (5/27/2023) Continuing on.... So, about my father.... Yes, he was elderly (88 when all this began), but in good physical shape. We, his family members had been telling him for years about Jesus (sometimes in a bit more of a pushy way, that just seemed to push him AWAY, sadly). It's hard to say if he had a true faith, or how deep it was. He was of the generation that thought it was not in good taste to talk of "religion" (wow did that attitude help our culture start down a slippery slope!) or politics (but he spoke of these things a bit more often, especially politics, as he got older). After his original event where he was found on the floor, and we suspected he had GBS, it looked like he'd never walk independently again, that some of his other bodily functions would never recover, etc.--especially if his original diagnosis had been correct (for which there would not have been much regaining of muscle use in his legs, etc.) Sometimes with GBS, you can recover over time to some extent, but this is not what his medical professionals diagnosed as his condition. But God was so gracious to him. (Helps to have many daughters pleading your case before the Throne of Grace I suppose....) He lived several hours away from us all, alone, and of course wanted to return home. So his option in that case was to have a live-in caregiver. As the Lord would arrange it ("coincidentally" ), somehow my sister and her husband found a caregiver that was a CHRISTIAN! Praise the Lord. Our Dad was a bit eccentric to say the least, but a very interesting and gifted/talented man. He was also not the nicest person to be around. So, over the next year or so, there were many times when his caregiver didn't know if she could stay, because sometimes he was just outright mean to her. But by the grace of God, she did ... and the impact of her sacrifice to stay with him when all within her probably screamed to get out of that situation, may well have had eternal implications for our father. Only Jesus knows for sure. It is my hope that in his heart, he surrendered to the still small voice of our Savior in the end. What I do know is that she (as a Christian) loved my music, and would play my CDs (among others) for my Dad at night, apparently blasting one of them on His powerful music system. When I originally put out my first independent CD (Fill This Temple) years ago, he had told me how he loved to listen to the beautiful music and my voice, even though he didn't necessarily agree with the Lyrics. Now, after whatever transpired due to Covid/shot/hospital stay, etc., with this Christian woman literally (from my perspective at least) being the "hands and feet of Christ" in his life, who faithfully put that CD on for him to listen to every night, he began to be INCREDIBLY complimentary when he and I would speak together. Mind you, this man tended to be VERY critical, and it was a sweet but shocking thing when we'd talk on the phone and he would gush about how he LOVED the music, etc. He was getting a bit forgetful and confused with age, and then probably from all that had transpired, but his encouraging words persisted. Now, I had thought I'd never get to see him again, because he was TERRIBLY afraid of Covid, and with my stubborn resistance to getting the shots, I just figured I'd never have that blessing of seeing him in person again. We would write letters back and forth, and call, and hearing his words of encouragement are things I'll treasure for the rest of my life. In exploring back on his life over these past couple of years, I was surprised that he had actually gotten a Pfizer shot somewhere in that ensuing year, and although there may have been a couple of things that might have been related, he largely did fine. (So fine, that I never even knew he had gotten that shot, and would have been flummoxed as to why he would agree to get another one when the first potentially had been the reason he landed in the condition in which he now found himself).... But who knows? He took it. Thankfully, his life continued on.... And, his strength and abilities gradually improved, so much so that he began to want to live independently again in more recent months. And for those many months, his gracious care-giver continued to lay her life down to her Lord every day. And by Jesus' amazing grace, he listened and loved the music. Surely, in all that listening, the lyrics had to sink in to his heart. All about Jesus.... I am forever grateful that the Lord allowed our Dad to have this living example of the Love of Christ living with him daily, and that the Lord was faithful in restoring some of what he had lost, AND using this horrendous situation in our society to work something good in his life, (at least from my perspective) spiritually. That's enough for now.... To be continued.... MANNA FROM MY FATHER'S HAND # 3 (5/29/2023) Continuing on with my Dad's story.... When our Dad was first in the hospital and rehab (with what we saw as GBS), one of my sisters with her hubby went up to where he lived to be with him during that time, and then I went up for a while, sort of tag-teaming helping him through. Finally, he was ready to leave the rehab and go home with a caregiver, and she lived with him for probably a little over a year and a half. At first, he was in a wheel-chair, with other physical/cognitive issues, but God was good to him, helping him to regain his muscles in his legs enough to walk with a walker, and I believe not to even need it at times, as time progressed. He always wanted to return to living by himself over that year and a half, and late last year had gotten independent enough that he started wanting more and more trials at that. Whether that was wise on his part or not, who knows? I have a bit of a stubborn streak, and I know where I got it from;). My sister and her hubby wanted to be able to go see him more (especially if he would be alone), but my Dad was overly afraid of Covid, sadly, and really resisted having people come visit. In fact, as I said earlier, my assumption was that I'd never see him again, since I hadn't had any of the shots, and if he was leery of those who DID get the shots, he'd see ME as a REAL threat.... I didn't know this until later, but in order to alleviate those fears and get him back into his life, where he could freely have his kids and grandkids visit, he was encouraged to go ahead and get the bivalent booster (Moderna this time), which he did, fully expecting it to be "safe and effective". Of course, that's what they told us, right? So who knows. Maybe it WAS safe and effective.... In remembering back, his caregiver said she didn't recall him having any reaction after first getting the shot. And not that long after, it was coming up to the holidays, and she was planning a longer time away, with him going for several weeks of living by himself. My sister arranged for someone in his area to come in and check on him now and then. He also had a wonderful long-standing connection with the Police Department (God bless them!), where he would call in and let them know he was OK every morning. (That's how they found him on the floor in his earlier event, when he didn't call in....) So, one day, the local person came to see how he was doing, and he didn't look very well. She convinced him to go to the ER, thinking maybe he had a UTI or something.... That's when it all started up again. Now who knows? Yes, our Dad was "old". Yes, I knew he wouldn't live forever on "this side of the veil". But something about the whole thing gave me a gut feeling that things didn't have to be the way they were. I know God is ALWAYS in control, so He knew EXACTLY when and how my Dad would die. I had for many years been preparing myself emotionally for when I would lose my parents. I knew I'd grieve, and the Lord would be my Help, as He always is. In my gut, I think my Dad would have been one of those people who live easily until 100 or so. But then, enter in the Pandemic.... To be continued.... Posted 5/30/2023: I will be continuing my stories about my father in coming days. I also hope (by the grace of God) to put out some uplifting content to continue to encourage the Body of Christ I would appreciate your prayers in that regard. In the midst of much darkness, the Light of our Savior is burning brightly in so many ways. May He shine in YOU and through you to those around you. Today would have been my Dad's 91st birthday. I pray that the things the Lord has moved me to do in coming days/weeks, etc. will not only honor my father's memory, but will honor and glorify my Heavenly Father, and cause His light to shine in the darkness. How we need that Light like never before.... If you want to join me on MeWe, you can go to this URL (You need to join MeWe to access the content though.) https://mewe.com/p/shiningriver Blessings to you and yours, and I look forward to sharing more as time (and the grace of the Lord) permits. MANNA FROM MY FATHER'S HAND # 4 (6/8/2023) Continuing on with my father's story.... (Sorry for the delay. This one has proven harder to start, not only because there has been a lot on my plate, but the content will likely begin to hit close to home as I remember what transpired over the past six months or so.)
In terms of my personal experience with C-19, I have likely had it twice, both times when it was going around during the Christmas holidays (2021 and 2022), as most colds and flus do. Both times, it was like a bad cold with a fever, with slightly different symptoms. Almost everyone in our area had it to one extent or another during those times, whether having had the shot or not.
The most recent time was just after this New Year (2023). It only lasted a few days, but I laid low for a good amount of time to be sure I didn't spread it to others. Right around this time, ironically enough, was when I found out my Dad had gone to the hospital with what seemed like it might have been a UTI. I would have loved to go right up to see him (about a 5 hour drive, give or take a half hour). But since I was getting over what seemed like C-19, I decided to stay put and pray. He was so deathly afraid of catching it, there was no way I was taking a chance of exposing him.
I found out later (after exploring what had happened to him), he was apparently originally admitted with weakness, UTI, some fluid in his lungs and slightly elevated cardiac enzymes. A few days after he went to the hospital (and had antibiotics, etc.), he was sent to rehab to recover. I remember calling him one day, and he seemed like he had some coughing, which I mentioned, and he called me my sister's name and told me I worry too much. When I reminded him of who I was, he said something like "Lisa, you worry too much too!"
I didn't think a whole lot more about that, and continued to pray for him, of course....
Just shy of two weeks after his original hospital admission, we found out that he was being transferred from the rehab facility back to the hospital with "Respiratory Distress". Not knowing if they would let us visit, especially if he tested positive for C-19, there was a day of not knowing if I'd head up or not, but I began preparing for the trip, planning for an extended stay as best I could. Thankfully, he tested negative, so they would allow visitors. I headed up the next day after that confirmation.
Again, after regrouping at the end of this whole thing, I learned that he had been given antibiotics for Pneumonia, had a low oxygen level and elevated pulse when admitted that second time. He tested negative for Covid, RSV and Flu, and had a couple of simple cold viruses.
I expected it to be like the last time. Help him get through the hospital stay and rehab and help him get back home. He was pretty confused, and I had to keep reassuring him that we were indeed aiming and planning to get him back home. When I first got there to see him (he was in the hospital), I had to get all garbed up, wearing a gown, with mask and face shield, which had a big black stripe right across the face which really confused him, he thought I'd look SO much better without that big black stripe, I should just take it off. Talk about confusing the elderly when they're in a difficult situation. It was so hard to breathe, I took breaks going out to my car to get some oxygen. God bless the medical staff who had to wear that crazy get up all the time.
They said that he'd be discharged once his O2 levels were better (and he didn't need the oxygen tank helping get his levels up). So, I was surprised when he was sent back to rehab after a couple of days, but at least he was more at ease going back to a place that he had been to before.
He was confused, and thought that he was going home, going to the rehab place, going to his local Senior services place.... He kept using all the names of those places interchangeably for "home", and I had to keep reminding him that he wasn't going home yet, but would get there once he recovered, etc.
The "silver lining" on this whole clouded story ... the place where I saw Jesus' gracious hand show up so tenderly, was in the times I got to share with my Dad by his bedside over the next two weeks. I fully expected him to begin recovering slowly like last time. He had lucid moments, some anxious and confused ones, and mostly was just really tired and increasingly weak. He was coughing, but his lungs were always "clear" when nursing would listen to them. He had swallowing issues, which contributed to his cough, and apparently, his heart was essentially failing which added to that as well. Thankfully, he always tested negative for C-19, so I was able to visit him daily, and never was kicked out of his room, able to be with him to the very end.
I got to show some of my videos from YouTube to him by his bedside (which he had never seen before, because he was quite the dinosaur, not even having any internet in his home, etc.) I even brought in a travel guitar and sang him some Italian art songs (the type he used to sing when we were young.) He tried to sing briefly, but I don't think his lungs were up to it, so he and his roommate listened and appreciated it. I got to show him videos of our church service livestreams, where I regularly am blessed to sing alongside two of my nephews, his grandchildren. All these things really blessed him.
His energy level would only allow for some of these times. Much of the time, I was sitting there as he slept. Every now and then, he'd wake up or look over at me and ask what we were going to do, and I'd try to jump on those moments when he was willing to expend that energy.
There were memorable moments, especially one, when we had a very lucid conversation in which he was telling me how he never thought I would have been able to do all the things I've done, how impressed he was, etc. (When I've told others about him saying that, some have remarked about what a put-down that could be, but to me, from HIM, it was a huge compliment....)
Funny thing, I tried to tell him that all the good things I've been able to do have been because of my Helper (Jesus) holding my hand all along the way. He didn't want to hear that and pushed back, and although I appreciated his kind words, I didn't want to lie to him.... Hopefully that truth registered somewhere, but he was NOT interested in entertaining that notion!
To be continued.... MANNA FROM MY FATHER'S HAND # 5 (6/9/2023)
His roommate was kind, and sort of watched out for my Dad in the first days when I wouldn't be there yet in the morning, he'd do his best to call over to my Dad if he was sounding confused. They were both bed bound and getting some rehab. His roommate had fallen, and was recovering. His PT was much more advanced than my Dad's, because my Dad could barely even stand up or transfer with two people helping him. Most of the staff that had seen Dad before were surprised how much he had regressed from the previous weeks before his re-admission to the hospital.
His roommate told me some of his own story, how he had been admitted to the hospital after his fall, and they had had a Covid outbreak there that was so bad that he and a few others (who tested negative) were kept in a totally different sort of makeshift section of the place. He was glad to be in rehab. He had several visitors who were friends, encouraging/assisting him and trying to help him figure out how to manage living alone once he recovered.
This man was getting up out of bed to walk with a walker with PT, and I think at one point, my Dad got a little jealous and wanted to get out of bed too... I think that might have been the day we actually got him out of bed to a wheelchair and I wheeled him down the hall to a little secluded spot. It was really hard for the assistants to get him up on his feet, and he seemed flummoxed as to why it was so hard for him to get his strength back. Frankly, I felt the same. He was a very strong, small but muscular kind of man, who took much time and effort keeping himself in shape for his whole life. In fact, even as his weakness progressed, the PT (who was far larger than my Dad) could barely pull him up to standing from his bed, because my Dad's muscles were almost pulling against the PT's efforts.
I had originally thought I'd probably stay up at his place for about a week, then later my sister and her hubby could come up to tag team (as we had done after his original GBS hospitalization). I had run out of food and clean clothes, and was ready to head back home. One day, my car was all packed up and ready for me to leave after seeing him that day, knowing my sis would be coming up in a few days to take over helping get him recovered and back home. I told him goodbye, and he gave me a very warm, intentional handshake, quite formal, saying he'd enjoyed working with me (almost like I was one of the professionals working with him there. He knew I was a Music Therapist, and I could sense his appreciation for all the time we'd had together).
But, after talking with my hubby, texting my family and praying, I just couldn't leave. He wasn't looking like things were going to turn around again.... So, I went to the grocery store, bought myself some frozen dinners and figured out which of my clothes would work for me to wear a second time....
Sadly, over those days, I watched him just go downhill rapidly. His appetite was almost non-existent, his confusion was noticeable, and although he wanted to get up and move his body as usual, it just was not responding to his efforts.
A really sweet moment in the midst of these days was one afternoon when my Dad had a bit of energy and asked what we could do. He agreed to have me play him a couple of videos on my laptop. Back in November, I had sung/played a solo concert at a Christian Coffeehouse, which was recorded. There was one of my songs, "Holy One of Israel" which really was a blessing that night, and came out pretty well on the raw video footage (haven't yet had time to actually put that one out YET on YouTube, but I had it there on my laptop, PTL). So I played it for him as he and his roommate listened quietly.
The song is like a musical prayer, and at the end, he and his roommate were almost lulled to sleep or prayer, or something that felt sweet in the Spirit. I asked my Dad if he wanted to hear another, and he said something like "No, I want to absorb what I just HEARD...." That song is about desiring to draw closer to Yeshua HaMashiach (Jesus the Messiah). I don't know if he knew what the words meant, but I trust the Holy One was beckoning to his heart that day....
One evening, as I was about to leave for the night, and my Dad had fallen asleep, his roommate called me over and said such kind words about having watched me love my Dad and put up with some of the more demanding things, etc. It was a very sweet gesture, and I still pray for this man....
Within that time period, I had noticed that there were signs posted by the front door of the rehab that there were some cases of Covid in the facility (so I realized that it was going around in his state during that "cold and flu season" just as it was in ours). Every day they tested my Dad (negative). There were apparently several people with Covid right around his room on that wing. One day, his roommate tested positive. That was so sad, because then all his therapy visits went down to nothing. He seemed quite tired and of course was coughing. He was mystified as to how he could have caught it, when he had had all FIVE of his shots(!)
I didn't say anything to him about that, but prayed, of course. Covid ran through that place so quickly it was amazing. Someone said that one of the staff had tested positive over the weekend, but had worked anyway. They were so short staffed, and some of the stories from the young folks working there were memorable, especially the young people talking about having problems with their KIDNEYS of all things....
Funny, how a place that dealt with so many people, both patients and staff who had all their "shots" up to date could have something spread like wildfire in that way. Weren't these shots supposed to STOP that?
Thankfully, Dad kept coming up negative, even though he was obviously exposed. His recent shot sure protected him from getting Covid. Very "effective" I guess.... The look of fear and dismay on his face when he happened to hear that his roommate had the virus was a sad moment. He had been so confused, he hadn't even realized, until some staff member mentioned something....
So I felt bad for his roommate. And my Dad's situation was progressing downhill.... It became pretty clear that he wasn't going to make it through this. I could barely believe it when one of the medical leadership staff asked if we were considering hospice! They were going to let him just die....
That was probably the hardest moment for me, grappling with the fact that they weren't even going to keep trying to help him recover....
To be continued.... MANNA FROM MY FATHER'S HAND #6 (6/10/2023) (Continuing on with my Dad's story)
Well, really, there was not much they could do for him. His body was simply not responding. He had issues going on with his heart, his breathing, his lack of appetite, his leg muscles rapidly declining, confusion.... It was sad to watch, and unclear as to how much time he had.
My sister asked if she should fly up to be there, because if he was going to pass away, she wanted to be by his side. I didn't know WHAT to tell her, because we had been so geared to him getting BETTER, but I just thought "it's not looking good". But it was a long flight for her. Well, not long after, she said she was coming up and would arrive that night (apparently one of the staff had let her know that they didn't think he had much time left)....
So two of my sisters (and my brother in law) ended up coming to join me up in his area. Thankfully, Dad held out not only until my sister could fly in (came in LATE at night, and we were praying that he would hold on), but in the end, he stayed with us a couple more days. And the staff was kind enough to agree to move him off that Covid filled wing (one of the nurses had kindly suggested we request that!)
They ended up moving us all the way down this other hallway, in a private room, secluded as the very last room on that wing, that was not even usually used or available.... Over the next couple of days, we all got to spend poignant and often sweet times together with our Dad and each other. Sad times, but grateful for such moments that we can hold in our memories. Near the end, we had asked our family members and his friends if they wanted to communicate their love to him (via phone calls, videos, words we could share with him, etc.) The Lord graciously allowed those moments for his loved ones to express their love, and for him to respond in whatever way he was able. His children, grandchildren, ex-wife, old friends, more recent friends, etc. had the rare opportunity to express their love while he was still able to receive it.... It was poignantly beautiful.
My sister who had flown in stayed right by his bedside with me over the nights, sleeping uncomfortably on chairs and a really hard window seat. We laughed at it all.... After a couple of nights that way, one of the nurses was kind enough to get us a couple of mattresses to put on the floor (she said since it was the weekend, we'd probably get away with it, at least until Monday when the regular staff would become aware and tell us it wasn't allowed. Wow, that was so much better!
We tried to keep the room as dark as possible over night so we could all sleep (the lights are always on at night in those types of places, so I'd shut the door to the hallway as much as possible, and it was only opened up if they had to wake him for some reason at night; we could at least get some shut eye.) On one of those last mornings, he blurted out loudly at around 5 AM something like "can we have LIGHT?" a couple of times.... So I opened the door to get some more light in the room. My sister said she had seen him awake in bed, fidgeting with his hands for a little while before he spoke up.... Even at that late stage in his life, he was ready to get his day started and get on with his routine....
Staying at his house at night during the first week and a half of my visit taught me a good deal about light and dark. Maybe I'll share some of that down the road. Also, in my next (and final) post in this series I'll likely share more about the staff and other medical professionals' impact on his life.
In the end, he passed away quietly, after I played him a video of one of his grandsons singing the Christian song "Knowing You" on my laptop, and then I sang "Daddy's Little Girl" a Capella to him as he breathed his last. He slipped away from us, and he is and will be missed in many ways.
The next post in this series will wrap up the story of his recent and final years. But his impact on my own life and heart will certainly live on, and there will be many other things for me to share in the future, for my Heavenly Father has often taught me deeper truths by observing my earthly father's life.
To be continued.... MANNA FROM MY FATHER'S HAND # 7 (6/12/2023) WRAPPING IT ALL UP
I will likely never know if all this "just happened" like things do as we normally age. Something about the WAY that it happened seemed "off" to me. It was as though his body just wouldn't respond. Like there was a force other than simply "age" working against him. Ironically enough, this second episode in his life, when the woman checking in on him convinced him to go the the hospital "happened" to be 50 days after he had gotten that bivalent booster. And I think I mentioned that the FIRST episode (GBS), after he got the J&J vax, began 51 days after THAT shot.... Suspiciously almost identical scenario. Not close enough to the administration dates to prove any association ... but close enough to leave my heart with unanswered questions on his behalf for the rest of my days.
I'm not overly concerned, because I KNOW Who is really in charge of things. My Dad's life was NOT hidden from his Creator. His days were numbered as all of ours are. I pray that in the end, he asked his Creator "can we have LIGHT", and Jesus said "Yes". Jesus is the true Light, and our only Hope....
Before simply walking away from what just happened, and in order to not be negligent in reporting what seemed very suspicious, I wanted to make a VAERS report (which I later submitted, and after many months, still haven't been able to find actually posted up on their website...). It was NOT easy to do, having to chase down all his info, like the dates of his shots, who gave them, etc. I got many people on the phone, from his doctor to the local senior organization that had arranged for his shots, to his town and county, etc. It was ironic and sad that none of the people I spoke with had been advised of his death. Even his doctor first learned of it from me, not the hospital or rehab, etc. It made me wonder how very many people are just getting these shots and then being sent on their way, with none of those "medical professionals" ever finding out how their clients fared. It seems increasingly probable that many didn't fare well, sad to say....
I could tell by speaking with the many people I called, that they really cared for my Dad and were quite surprised and saddened that he had passed away. He was pretty well known in his local community.... I could tell at the rehab facility, that the staff members really cared for him (and some of them showed us true love, mercy and kindness, for which we were profoundly grateful). I am sure that the travelling nurse who administered his shot at his home thought she was doing a GOOD thing, to HELP him. I know the regular people "in the trenches" of medical care truly have hearts of gold and love their patients. That's the type of work I had done for YEARS before this pandemic craziness changed the landscape so drastically.
This medical fiasco caused a lot of good hearted people to be driven from their jobs (self included). I am glad there are still some of them left who are trying to carry on, not growing weary in doing good, as they are able.... But they are terribly over-worked because of what this has all caused.
Since I'm not working first hand in nursing homes or assisted livings for the most part any more, I'm not really sure how things have changed, or if everything is really going well. I may be wrong about all my assumptions in my writings over these past few posts. Only the Lord knows. My gut tells me that somewhere in the upper realms of medical care, there are people who really don't care about people like my Dad or any of the others on whom they have experimented. They are not interested in people living longer or with more strength and vigor. They care more about being able to make as much money as possible, and to not rock the boat of whatever forces are running the "system" above them.
And my heart BREAKS that if what I suspect is true, it was people like my Dad HIMSELF, and his loving family members, friends and medical staff that he trusted that THOUGHT they were doing something good, that having this shot would help him LIVE and be WELL, actually did him grave harm.... All the while their efforts were lovingly and inadvertently administering something poisonous. If I'm wrong, I really DO want to know. It would probably set my heart at ease....
Yet, I hear more and more stories that sound a whole lot like my Dad's.... I've lost several of my dearest friends over these recent years, and will never know if these decisions expedited their passing to their eternal home. I know they are in a better place, and for that I'm thankful. Yet, I miss them....
I've shared all this in the hopes of honoring my Dad's life, and perhaps giving others a heads up that they might want to examine what's been going on before making medical decisions for themselves or loved ones based on the fear that has been pushed upon our society, and really, the world. Somehow, I'm pretty sure my Dad's story is far from "rare" or unique. I think it may be pretty ubiquitous, actually.
Those of us who resisted the measures that were taken in our society originally with Covid were told that we were "unloving". Didn't we CARE about Grandma and Grandpa? My answer has always been "yes, I do care, and that's why I resisted..." A hard thing to say when the culture shouts at you that you're wrong.
What I do know is that the definition of "love" that lives in my heart through the scripture says in part: "Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." (1 Corinthians 13:6-7 NIV) It never seemed very "true" that the things we were being told were really based in scientific fact. It seemed more based on expediency for profit's sake....
Another scripture that has run through my mind many times during this season in our lives, whether it's related to this or not (it's likely related to being tempted to sin) is:
"Then He said to the disciples, 'It is impossible that no offenses should come, but woe to him through whom they do come!'" (Luke 17:1 NKJV)
I don't know if those "through whom this all came" will pay any penalty on this earth. I know that there is One with Whom they WILL have to do in the end.... I trust Him to sort it all out and bring justice and truth forth, as He shines His LIGHT on all things. After all, He is the Author of Life. The One Who paints the heavens daily, if we'll only have eyes to see.
Thanks for reading this, if you've gotten this far. It's been good for me to get it out, even if only a few people ever read it. My father taught me a lot in and through his life. My heavenly Father has used so many of those things to inspire me, and now, I can have time and the emotional space to share more of those things, in His time, and by His grace.
Until then ... Blessings to you and yours. And may we all "stay SAFE" in the arms of Christ, and in no other thing or person. | |
