I can almost smell the pancakes and sausage cooking as Dad prepared our Sunday breakfast, like he did every Sunday morning. I'll never forget him asking me "Ginny, do you want white syrup or brown?" Then he'd help Mom get us all ready for Church. He was the first one to arrive at Church and he always had the heat or air running so everyone else would be comfortable. Then he'd teach Sunday School and lead the congregation in those beautiful old hymns. After Church we would all load into the Chevrolet Stationwagon and go out to lunch. After lunch we'd take a Sunday drive through the country and listen as Dad told us the same old stories that we'd heard last Sunday. But, we didn't mind. Somehow it just seemed right. We were all together, happy, and secure with Dad at the wheel.
My heart broke this week as I had to put my sweet Dad in a nursing home. I know it's what is best for him but it hurts just the same. I know God's grace is sufficient. His mercy endureth forever because of grace.
My heart broke this week as I had to put my sweet Dad in a nursing home. I know it's what is best for him but it hurts just the same. I know God's grace is sufficient. His mercy endureth forever because of grace.