My heart is joyous because my first daughter was born a month ago, filling my days with non-stop love and feelings I can’t even describe, but at the same time my heart aches for my father. I know that for some people it might seem strange to share such personal feelings on my blog, but I have received a lot of support and encouraging stories from my followers, for this reason I feel obligated to share this part of my life as I have shared the happy moments. I also think that by telling you a little about this story I’m helping my father with your well wishes and a commitment to pray for his recovery.
20 days ago my father had a hemorrhagic stroke, and as many of you know he has been in an induced coma, and on a very slow road to recovery. His story is already a success one, he survived a stroke which only 50% of people survive, and later on, he survived a brain surgery which only 40% survive. When I got to the hospital the day of the accident, too late to see him conscious, my only way of communicating with him was by holding his hand and desperately talking, or more accurately, demanding him to open his eyes.
These days I leave Naomi with my mom, rush through the hospital, which has a strange cinnamon smell that I hate, enter the SICU, full of people between this world and the next, and sit by his side, talking about the snippets of life as I remember. I tell him about Naomi, the weather, my feelings, most days I didn’t receive a response, until one day I did. I held his hand as I usually do, and talked with a strong voice: “dad wake up, you are not dead, you are alive, there is still too much to see! I need you, my sister and brother need you, please forgive me for everything I have done. Open your eyes! YOU HAVE TO OPEN YOUR EYES! I miss you, please, I’m very sad” As I said this, my father moved his thumb in my hand, gently, the way he usually does when he is trying to console me.
Our brain, that machine we take for granted, that machine of this brilliant man, slowly telling him to recover, it must have taken all his strength to gently move his thumb in my hand, all his strength to make me happy for one second. His soul and the love we have given him during the past 20 days is slowly bringing him back.
I can tell you that life is divided in two parts, when you think everything is under your control, and when you realize it’s not. Before this, I felt everything had an explanation, everything was a result of my actions, now I know this is not true. The moment came when I had to get on my knees and beg to G’ to please let my father live fully again. No doctor can save him, not all the money in the world, not his fame… nothing, just G’ and the love we give him. I’m asking you all to give me and my family the gift of saying a small prayer for his recovery. He is only 56, and he hasn’t met his granddaughter. My siblings and I don’t feel ready to live without our father yet. I promise that I will share his recovery on my blog, forever thankful for your stories of hope, your prayers and concern for my father.
3 hours before his accident my father tweeted this: “Faith is a great gateway to spiritual peace”, I feel these last words were left for my siblings and I, since the 3 of us need all the faith in the world, and our faith is the only thing that brings us peace these days.