My Dad the chef.........

Ask anybody who's tried it,
my Dad makes,
hands down,
the BEST pizza EVER!
It's been a while since I've had it.
We used to tell him that he needed to open a pizza joint and name it "Poppy's Pizza".
Apparently he made it like a week before his stroke.
I didn't get to have any.
I hope I get to have some again.

And cinnamon rolls.........
oooey, gooey perfection.
I used to love to watch him make them.
He'd flour up the counter and spread the dough,
butter it up, roll it, stretch it, sprinkle it.......
I can smell them now.
Brings me back to a late Sunday afternoon winter as a kid.

He used to make us breakfast for dinner.
We always loved that.
He'd make fried dough sometimes.
Other times he would wrap those little smokies in dough......
we'd have them w/ maple syrup.

And spaghetti w/ pepperoni in the sauce.......
and eggs benedict........
homemade french fries
and homemade fudge on Christmas Eve..........
slightly burnt toll house cookies (every time)
and there was lots and lots of Jiffy Pop on the stove top too.

My sister sent this to me today......her and Dad!

July 19th

Yesterday they moved my father out of ICU and guess where they put him? Right back where he started from, before all this nonsense happened, on the 6th floor, in the same room, in the same bed. Perhaps this a good sign and a 2nd chance at things. Now his physical therapy can start and he can begin his long road to recovery. It will be nice to not have him behind locked doors and that means no more picking up the phone to get permission to come in.

As I mentioned in my last post, things are moving slowly. My Dad definitely has those moments when he is "there". In those moments it's so wonderful and heartbreaking to see him. I just sit there and think does he know what's going on? Is he afraid? Is he in pain? Does he know us? And then I think if he does know what's going on---that this is his worst nightmare come true (as I mentioned earlier, his grandfather had a stroke at 62 and was paralyzed), even if just temporarily. His lungs are so full of junk and it's so painful to sit there and watch him cough, or worse yet, be suctioned. I have been praying for clear lungs so they can take that trach out.

A great friend of mine said it best in a comment--that this is the kind of test that none of us ever want to face but eventually all of us will and that faith of all kinds is what will get us through these tough times. He is so right. I continue to ask God for strength for all of us. I know that NOW is when the really tough part starts and when Dad is going to need us the most. I intend to be right there by his side. Whatever he needs...........