Rev. Zach

As I helped my dad into my stepmom's car to leave the hospital we made fists and I said, "You fight this thing." We punched knuckles, and I turned to walk inside to the ATM for parking money. As I turned my first tears came to me. I sniffled and held back the tide as I walked through the lobby, thinking how many times I'd seen others this way and what I must look like. I made it back out to the parking lot, whimpering under my breath. I almost wanted others to hear me, but I dared not make a scene. As I got to my car a cheapy, clunky charm from a toy cought my eye. It was an angel. For a moment I considered the child who may have lost it as I selfishly snatched it up for my own comfort. As I sat in my car blowing my nose and regaining composure I heard a horn beep but did not consider it. Suddenly a large African American woman appeared outside my window asking plaintively and forcefully, "Are you going to move that car?!" I wanted to roll down the...

Dad's home now. He's been diagnosed with Mantle Cell Lymphoma, an aggressive form of cancer originating in the bone marrow. He's already begun chemo, and will continue for 6 months. Assuming it is in remission at that point there will be a bone marrow transplant. I spent the night with him last Thursday, his last night in the hospital so far. During the early morning hours he came in and out of sleep. At times I sat watching him wishing there were words or questions to ask that might unlock the secrets of life as he knew them. I wondered about the pieces of his life I wil never know. Stories from childhood I never before cared to hear... a clear understanding of the nuances of buying and selling a house... the joys and sorrows of life choices that I have felt the reprocussions of but will never know about. Friday morning they brought in his breakfast, and he shared it with me. I offered to go get my own, but he was not hungry enough to finnish it. We had been talk...

I'm at Northside Hospital in Atlanta, GA with my father. He has an enlarged spleen and is awaiting a biopsy over the Labor Day weekend, which means it wont happen till Tuesday. I've been here through the night. Its Sunday now. Presently he is zoning on Demerol. Primarily I have been helping him sit up or stand or navigate his way to the can. I've also been interpreting treatment for him and keeping him from driving the nurses crazy. The pain has him somewhat disoriented, and he has a mild form of Parkinson's that makes it hard for him to access the words he needs to adequately express his thoughts when he gets stressed. In the midst of all of this we shared a prayer a little while ago. We were talking about how he was glad to have me here and to receive care from me as a son and as a minister. I expected him to expect me to pray, but he began with a "Dear God" and I awaited like a child at Christmas to see what would follow. I truly expected to hear...