Dad...

Dad, tonight we were alone, just you and I, for a little while.  Over the course of these 24 days, I've only been in the room with you alone twice.  That is good.  We have so many people who love you and we all want to be with you.  But twice, circumstances were such that it was just you and me in the room.

The last time we were alone, you were quite sleepy, but still talking, and we talked, and even cried a little, as we listened to some of your favourite hymns.  And you watched me when I left.  But you were recovering.  We all believed you would recover.

It's now been almost two weeks since we saw you look meaningfully at us.  Almost two weeks since you were awake.  And tonight, it was just me again.  So I did the best thing I know to do when I have no words.  I sang.  I sang the first song that came into my head, which was a lullaby from a parent to a child, but I sang it tonight, to you.

How long do you want to be loved? 

Is forever enough, is forever enough?

How long do you want to be loved?

Is forever enough

'Cause I'm never never giving you up.

I sang this song, then played another and sang that one, too.  I don't know if you heard me, but it didn't matter.  I needed to sing, to use my voice that way.  I know your heart hears all of us, all the time.  Our heart love transcends whatever has happened in your brain, transcends a sleep we cannot wake you from, transcends even death, though we still can't even fathom that.

I don't want you to go.  I don't want to not have a dad.  I don't want to not have you.  I don't want my children to lose the best man they've ever known.  The sorrow knows no bounds, but as a song I listened to yesterday sang, "for in our great sorrow, we learn what joy means."

We know this sorrow goes deep because our love and joy have been so deep with you.  You wore your heart right there on your face, every day.  We never had to wonder if we were loved by you, we just had to look at you.  You could not look at any member of your family without pure love and adoration.

I desperately want to see that look on your face once more.  I want to hear your voice.  But even if I can't, I know it's there.  You are embedded in my DNA, literally and figuratively.  And in some weird little way, I hope your little girl singing to you tonight is embedded in you, too.  Somewhere in that body and brain that we can't seem to access, I hope you are smiling your beautiful smile and knowing my love.

I have to add this photo because the way you are looking at my daughter is exactly what I mean.  Pure adoration.