Phil's Journey: November 2011

TO CATCH YOU UP TO SPEED...

HOW OUR BLOG BEGAN, in AUGUST 2010: As many of you know, Phil has been struggling with a very complex series of neurological issues for about 5 years. This past spring, the issues became especially intense as a result of an unexpected cognitive decline and a fall on May 15th that resulted in a head injury and further decline. And then, on July 16th things catapulted to unbelievable, as Phil suffered from a severe "electrical storm" in his brain that essentially created a status of brain death for two full days. Inexplicably, the very morning that neurologists and other medical team members were planning removal of life support, Phil began breathing on his own and his brain waves returned to a stable, while still abnormal, level. Since then, each day has been a unique journey. And while he and his body continue to demonstrate a will and capacity to live, he continues to have severe deficits and it is quite uncertain as to the path he will take. As loved ones close in can attest to, it has been tricky to keep up emotionally with all of his changes, and provide the needed support. We can only imagine the hard work Phil has gone through as his brain has taken him through such roller coaster experiences. It is our goal here to keep family and close friends apprised of Phil's ongoing story, and to build connections that honor him.

AND THEN, SEPTEMBER 11, 2010....Dad's remarkable journey alongside us culminated in a gentle, generous death.

And so, my goal here now as his daughter is simply this: to record snippets...pieces of his life that my memory offers back to me, pieces of myself as I learn to live without a dad. I hope all who meander by find life, and hope, and peace.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

november 1

hi dad.

you'd love to hear that i'm doing something completely new.

COMPLETELY.

i'm writing a novel. 50,000 words in 30 days. or at least that's the idea.

i know it's just a little thing. but because of the fluid life that tim has taught me to live, such a black-and-white goal feels completely foreign to me.

if you were here, you'd give me courage. tell me that a goal is a good thing. but that it has no bearing on my worth. go for it, just don't freak out about it.

ok well that last sentence is your ideas, my words.

i wish i could read each chapter to you as they roll off the presses. because you'd listen carefully, innocently, always with a smile. no fear.

i hope my sense of you doesn't fade with time.

hugs to you,
k.