Day Three Hundred and Forty-Five

"The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong, and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail."

                                                           -Isaiah 58:11

It's not been a good day. Not close. I've had puffy eyes for the latter half of this week, and today, they got a lot fatter. My dad is in the hospital. Everything else just added to the pain. He suffered a stroke sometime last night, and this morning, my brother found him and drove him immediately to the ER. Only a few hours ago, they admitted him into the hospital, where he's recovering from the day's countless tests and blood extractions. This is his third stroke in the last month. Originally, we were told that the chemotherapy drug he was on might be to blame for the weakened blood vessels. Now, our information is limited as the test results have yet to confirm or deny anything different. My entire family made their way across Washington State to be with my father and for that, I am so thankful. He's in the very best company, with the ones who care about him most. He'll come through this. I just wish I were there to hold his hand and tell him so myself. I wish that this photo was actually the truth and not something Adam created on his computer.

This is the most painful cost of baseball. It takes you places you've never been before, yes, but with that, it also puts a big divide geographically between the place and the family you've always called home. And it hurts. Badly. I love you, Daddy. I miss you. And I would drive the entire length of the United States to see you if you only said the words. Our prayers are continual, and at this point, the very best we can offer. Truly, that's the best anyone can offer, ever. The Lord's got you in His hands, Dad. Lean on Him and trust Him. Always. And please, if you're reading this, take a moment to pray for Johnie. He's a father of five and a lover of all things baseball. And I can't wait, can't wait, for him to come down to visit during Spring Training 2013. It's going to be a week I'll never forget.

You never fully understand the weight of things until you receive that one phone call. When that happens, everything else seems trivial and petty. And that's exactly how I reflect on my complaints of today. I woke up this morning crying. And miserably, miserably hot. A sticky, crabby, gross hot. The fan blowing into our bedroom from outside was bringing with it the most obnoxiously disgusting Florida smell of rotting fish and moldy garbage. When I realized what was happening, the waterworks began. And it didn't stop all day.

Adam tried, first, at his best attempt of making his own DIY air conditioning unit using our fan, cardboard, and a cooler full of ice. It didn't work. And as he used more and more duct tape, the contraption became more and more useless. So we trashed that idea and decided on a new one.

A styrofoam cooler, a bathroom ventilation ceiling fan, and ice. The air coming out was colder, but the fan proved to be nothing more than pathetic. We're back to square one: our single box fan trying to cool off a 700 sq. ft. apartment in South Florida. And a wasted $25. Angry, hot, and very tired, we then received the phone call from my mom telling me about my dad. Since then, my eyes have yet to recover. I feel completely stupid and selfish for complaining so much about our AC while my dad is in the hospital, 4,000 miles away, trying his best to kick the crap out of cancer...turned stroke. I feel even worse for not being there. In total, not my favorite day. Probably one of my least favorite days of the entire year. I'm ready for tomorrow. I love you, Dad.