This post has been a long time coming. (I can see the eyes rolling now) LOL. The sun is out today in Germany and it's a gorgeous day. Curious that earlier this morning it was foggy and I thought for sure it would stay overcast the entire day. Just like the weather, our lives seem to take a change for the better or worse in the blink of an eye.

This was the case for my father over 1 year ago. He started having problems with balance and had a pretty bad fall that scared him and his family and left him having to use a cane and requiring medical care. Fast forward to today when he's been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's Disease. Writing the words makes it very real for me. He is now on bed rest with very few outings. His lungs are giving way and his eating capabilities are now gone. It's such a stark contrast with how he lived his life. From a very early age, I always knew him as the smartest person in the room, he always had a smile on his face and was never at a loss of words. Now we are the ones talking to him, trying to keep him interested in something, knowing that somewhere in there is a man who needs mental stimulation or his life will drive him insane.

It's hard being so far away and not being able to see him, but I also know it's probably the best thing I could do. Dealing with his illness is coming to terms with life and how truly lucky we are to have the moments we have. I'm dealing with my own mortality, the fact that I'm getting older, just like all of us are. Life is still full, but we never truly know when our time will come. Thinking of my father, I remember how meticulous he was about taking good care of his health. He was always moderate in his drinking and I used to tease him at how boring and bland the foods he ate were. He loved to run especially at the beach. He would go to the doctor at the first sign of a pain -- or so we thought. It just goes to show that we don't really know when our time will come. It's an unknown. I also recently read "Me Before You" by Jojo Moyes about a man who is a quadriplegic and decides to take matters into his own hands and goes to an Euthanasia Clinic. I didn't really focus on the euthanasia subject, because I don't really believe in it--but his life and how he went from a 35 year-old successful, healthy man, to a quadriplegic. I thought of my own uncle who at 21 had a car accident and was left in a wheelchair without the ability to speak or eat--he's been living this life for 30 years now. His mother has taken care of him the whole time. It was a strange turn for his life and those around him. What is left to do, when you are next to someone who is experiencing death or a life changing tragedy? For me, it's holding on a little tighter to that person, giving them an extra hug and not turning away from them, even when it's hard not to. I spent a week in Panama mostly at the hospital with my father. I read him books, showed him videos of my children, told him I loved him and held his hand. Made peace inside myself with the difficulties we had had between us. And put everything else to the side--although it was hard to. Now back home, I hope that I held him long enough, I don't know if I'll ever know the answer to that. Maybe part of the answer to that question is how we decide to live after we've known someone who is facing a death.

Maybe they would tell us to go live life and to put regrets, reservations and resentments to the side. We've been telling our kids to stop fighting over things with each other. My husband asks them: "Is this something you'll remember next year, in five or ten years?" Big thought for a 10 and 8 year old, but something we should consider as adults. It's not easy, but I think of the pain that people face if they're suffering from a fatal illness. How can I not try to live a better life? We all face struggles, health, financial, emotional, physical and the list goes on. It's not that the struggle and pain will magically be lifted but that we put it into a different perspective. I see it as a way to honor the ones that are struggling or have struggled for their life.