Walking Taller

I have never been a parent, watching their child take his first steps.  I wonder, though, if the feelings I have watching my Dad walking might be similar.  I hold my breath as he reaches out to grip the walker, carefully positioning his feet in the unique way that works for him.  Upon reaching that standing position without groans of pain or wobbles, he slowly proceeds to follow that frame of support as he heads to his destination.

His surgery, straightening his back, seemed almost too simple before we went in last Wednesday.  Simple it was not.  Removal of the wedge was just the beginning.  In order to position the back in a more straight line, Dr. Simmons then broke the remaining part of his spine to align him.  If Dad was writing this he would probably say, Yep, they took a wedge out and then broke my back.

Unashamedly, when he stands and walks, I cheer and encourage, take pictures, gape with my mouth wide open, and sometimes still tear up.  He looks straighter, taller, and with a gaze that looks out, not down. I try to tell anyone that will listen that he has been curved my whole life, and that this is not some routine moment.  Looking at my Dad, standing taller, is monumental and a dream come true! 

Recovery, which really is learning how to work those degenerating hips to support this new straight back, is going to be a journey.  It might be a long one.  His next steps from the hospital room door are uncertain.  Would a rehab facility be the best? Can Mom and I take care of things for him at home?  We are certain that our trust in God to lead Dad through surgery is going to be the same trust in the same God who will lead him out of the hospital and down the road with his new perspective on life.