I love you so much, Dad. I’m SO thankful you are still here with us after your life altering stroke. What a blessing to spend more time together and get to watch you meet your great grandson, Elijah and great granddaughter, Adeline.
I’d be lying, though, if I didn’t say I miss our conversations and our debates. I miss your wisdom and sound advice. I miss your sharing the love of God with me and others.
With that loss acknowledged, I am also so thankful for the laughter we are still able to enjoy together. For the knowing looks you give and your tight hugs and deep sighs when we pray before bed. Despite your limited ability to speak, we still have YOU, and I am so grateful for that. I am a blessed daughter to have you for a father. Still praying for a miracle, yet, accepting this new normal in our father-daughter relationship. The foundation you have built and continue to provide is so solid, so good, so so grounding to the person I have become.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. May God bless you and see fit to breathe words into you. May you hear His voice regularly. In your quiet time with Him, may you have full blown conversations because He hears you, knows your heart, and understands everything you want to express. 💚
My sister, Traci, is celebrating her birthday today. My little sister, Lori, celebrates hers at the end of the month. In honor of these two incredible humans, I thought I’d share a bit about what it means to me to have these amazing sisters.
Let me start by saying that we are all very different. I’m the oldest. Probably the most serious. Certainly the most pragmatic. Traci, two years behind me, is waaay nicer than me. She never says a bad word about anyone. She is loyal and kind and passionate. Lori, nine years my junior, is totally different than both of us. Her bold, hip fashion sense, zest for life and listening ear to everyone she meets is unparalleled. Everywhere we go someone knows and loves Lori. These two women are beautiful inside and out, and I am so very thankful I get to call them mine.
Different as we may be, the things that bind us together, the things that make us family are rock solid and foundational to who we are. My sisters are my biggest fans – absolute, always supportive, raving fans. When I decided to start this blog, both excitedly exclaimed how proud they were of me. I think they are proud because they know me. They know my heart. They know what makes me tick. They know my desires and my fears and insecurities. So, they understood what taking this leap of faith meant to me, and they supported me with an enthusiasm that only my sisters would have. I can’t even begin to express how much their support means.
What I’ve learned as I have gotten older is that not all families work like ours. We are so close and care about each other dearly. But, we are also blunt and opinionated with each other. We tell each other what we think and get into each other’s business if we think it’s warranted. We often give unsolicited advice, step on each others’ toes occasionally, and probably drive each other nuts from time-to-time. It’s a level of “realness” that I’ve found not all sisters share. But this realness, this ability to be honest and open with each other, is what makes our bond so special. It is a bond built on mutual trust and respect and honest-to-goodness unconditional love.
So, when Dad suffered his strokes three and a half years ago, when the rubber hit the road and it was time to show up or go home, we showed up. We showed up as a family, and our sisterly bond allowed us to face this huge challenge head-on, together. We’ve each provided support to Mom and Dad in our own, unique style and manner. We’ve depended on each other to pull the weight required to make a difference for our parents.
Traci, the patient teacher has focused on speech therapy and bringing Mom and Dad to church. Lori, the confident caretaker has handled trips to physical therapy and showering. I, the more business-minded one have helped with bills, insurance, trusts and banking. (I’m also pretty well-versed at calling DoorDash or picking up take-out – unlike Lori who actually cooks creative meals or Traci who brings “special treats” from her and Mom’s favorite store, Grocery Store Outlet.)
All this is to say that we’ve sort of found our rhythm of support, and it works because we can depend on each other. We know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we’ll be there for one another and for Mom and Dad. I understand that the confidence I have in my sisters, and that I hope they have in me, is not something that all siblings share. It is special. They are special. I know what a gift I’ve been given, and I thank God daily for that gift.
“But the love of sisters needs no words. It does not depend on memories, or mementos, or proof. It runs as deep as a heartbeat. It is as ever-present as a pulse.” — Lisa Wingate, author
Lori, me and Traci – sisters by birth, friends by choice
Three and a half years ago, on March 6, 2019, my dad suffered several embolic strokes. To say that this was life changing and a family crisis would be an understatement. Larger than life, a fantastic communicator and big presence in our family and his church and community, my dad was the ultimate patriarch. He was who we turned to for advice and strength and confidence; he was our rock.
In the days following Dad’s strokes I began to keep the the community who cared so much about him updated on his progress by writing journal entries on CaringBridge. I found the practice of writing to be helpful for me to process my pain as well as a good way to share specific prayer requests. Friends near and far offered their love for dad, and our family has continued to be so very touched by their ongoing support.
For those that don’t know the story, Dad is still severely impacted by the strokes. He is paralyzed on his right side and has both apraxia and aphasia (which basically means he can’t really converse or find the words he wants to use). Nevertheless, we are so thankful to God for sparing his life, and we still have faith that he’ll improve. Every day we find things to be thankful for, but the journey hasn’t been an easy one.
What I learned through writing all the CaringBridge updates was that so many people are going through their own battles, and people seem to find comfort in knowing they are not alone in their struggle to find joy and keep the faith when things feel so grim. And, somehow, writing about my hurts and hopes just helped me. It was sort of like allowing myself to be known at a guttural level. It was often raw and always real.
So, while this blog isn’t just about Dad and his recovery, I posted some of those old CaringBridge updates (with the date they were written) to have them included in my journey of discovery. A lot of water has passed under the bridge since those early days post-stroke. But, it is a good reminder to be able to look back and recall how far God has brought Dad, our family, and my broken-daughter heart.
It’s been exactly a year since DadPapaRon’s first stroke. So much has happened over the past year. I went back to the beginning of our journey and re-read some of my first posts here on CaringBridge. Such daily change, fear and desperation back then. A year later, (aside from his recent seizure) we’re in more of a rhythm. A new normal has found its way into our lives, and we go through each day more accepting of what is. What he is. What that reality means for all of us.
It’s still hard for each of us to believe we’re here, though. We make a conscious effort to embrace him right where he is. We know he is enough – even if he doesn’t improve. But, part of the struggle is in the not knowing when and how much to push for more effort from him. He’s tired. His brain has been damaged. We believe he still doesn’t put it together that working hard outside of therapy is required for healing to happen more quickly. We know he doesn’t fully understand this concept, because the man we know wouldn’t accept his feeble walk, motionless arm and hand and unintelligible words; he just wouldn’t accept them. He’d push and push and push. But, the brain is complex. He’s suffering from both apraxia (he wants to talk and move but can’t) and aphasia (he doesn’t fully understand or process completely what’s being said). These conditions make it so challenging for him, and they make us realize that we just shouldn’t push too hard because it’s completely exhausting for him.
Regardless, as today marks the one-year anniversary of his stroke, we worry that steps toward improvement may not be as big now. The more time that passes, the harder it becomes for the brain to heal. At least that is what the medical professionals say. But, we also know that anything is possible because we love and worship a God of miracles; we’ve already seen so many. So, we continue to pray for improvement and healing. We know so many of you pray for the same thing. We are so grateful you’re helping lift his needs up and supporting us during this walk.
This past year has taught the Horan Clan many things. Among them:
If you’re building a family, be sure the structure is solid with Christ as the foundation and unconditional love as the walls. You never know when the earthquakes will come, and you’ll want that incredible structure to weather the storm. I’m convinced we could never have survived this emotional rollercoaster as well as we have without that family structure that Mom and Dad built for us.
Be thankful. Cherish the people in your life, and tell them regularly how much you love and appreciate them. You never know what tomorrow will bring, and you don’t want to live with regrets.
Instill confidence in your kids. There’s nothing like the confidence that comes from a parent’s belief in their child. When words are absent, you realize how much you long to hear them – how important they were to have in your head all along as you grew up.
Reach out to others. We were meant to live in community. The support, love, prayers and strength of others is so huge when you’re struggling. Being ok with vulnerability and asking others to come alongside you in a time of need is not a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of how blessed you are that others care.
Be there for others. We have all been so totally humbled by your support. It has demonstrated for us the importance of us being there for others when they are going through difficult times. Even when we don’t know what to say or do, it’s still valuable and appreciated to show love and support and to pray.
In a moment’s notice everything really can change. We hear this all the time. Honestly, though, until you live it, you just don’t get it. I know so many reading this have learned this lesson the hard way – in a completely permanent way, with a loved one passing away. In our case, the moment’s notice changed our ordered reality drastically. Whether it’s a death or serious injury, everything really can change on a dime. So, the lesson here for all of us is to live each day fully, expressing our love to others, forgiving quickly, appreciating the gifts we’ve been given, growing closer to each other and to God.
Be prepared with logistics. Health screenings, consistent medications, advanced directives, wills and trusts and decisions about ongoing care.. Take care of business. Have the hard conversations. Plan when you’re healthy, able and not stressed. I’m not saying we’ve all done all this yet, but we sure understand the importance of it!
We are not in control – but God is. Faith that God has a plan. He loves us. He sees us. He wants what’s best for us — even when life doesn’t make sense — that kind of faith, breathes life into your weary soul. It gives strength when you’re tired and peace when your circumstances suggest that’s impossible. Faith gives purpose.
Introduce your kids to the One who loves them even more than you do. We learned from Mom and Dad that it’s our job to make the introduction, arrange time together, encourage interaction. But, we’ve also learned, at the end of the day, it’s up to our kids to decide who they build a relationship with. It’s up to them to engage, learn from and love who they choose. They must find their own faith. But, we are soaware that it was our parents that made the introduction to God for us, and no words can express how truly grateful we feel for that now as adults.
I could write a book about all these, and so many more, lessons we’ve learned over the last year. But, this post is getting long, and duty calls to get to work. So, I’ll simply end by saying thank you from all of us in the Horan Clan. Thank you for living this last year in the trenches with us. Thank you for your prayers and support. Thank you for caring enough to read these updates and loving us enough to show and tell us. It’s been one heck of a year.
If Dad could talk and use both his arms, we know he’d give you each a big giant hug and offer a deep sigh and a huge, “Thank you. I love you. It’s gonna be alright,” kind of encouragement. He used to always talk about “Christ among us.” You certainly have been that for him and his family.
Here’s to Year Two, Round Two- Lets go, God! We’re ready! 👍🏻❤️😊
Today marks 56 years that Mom and Dad have been married. What an accomplishment. What a testament. What a commitment. They met as children in upstate New York. Dad robbed the cradle, and they married young. At nineteen and twenty-two its unlikely that when they promised ‘til death do us part’ and ‘in sickness and in health,’ that they fully understood what they were signing up for. Yet, here they are – 56 years later – showing their family, friends and community what those vows really mean.
This post is in honor of their grit. Their digging down deep and staying when it wasn’t easy. Their decision to put Christ in the middle of their marriage and lean on Him when feelings came and went and forgiveness was hard and the road wasn’t smooth (because we all know it is never always smooth for any married couple.)
This post is in honor of the family they built. The love and confidence they poured into their daughters and continue to pour into their grandchildren. Their legacy grows and becomes richer as the years pass.
This post is in honor of Mom. Mom – who used to let Dad take the lead in most things, but since the stroke, has had to step into that role and become the rock for him to stand on. She has truly amazed us. Her entire world turned upside down ten months ago. Her plans for what her future would look like completely imploded. It’s been so hard for the family, but I can’t even imagine what it’s been like for Mom. Still, her steadfast love hasn’t wavered. She serves tirelessly and has learned to accept this new normal. Together, they’ve learned a new “language.” They communicate now with knowing looks, giggles and funny gestures. Their eyes tell their love story. Her fierce protection of him shows the depth of her feelings. Sure, she has tough days and sad moments, but my God, she’s solid. She’s compassionate. She’s committed. Over the last ten months she has truly lived her marriage vows as an exceptional example to all who are watching. We’re blessed to have a front row seat.
Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad. We’re so honored to see the unconditional love you two share with each other. We’re thankful to God to have you both here with us to celebrate this milestone.❤️
It has been six months to the day since Dad’s strokes. Six months of living in a “we can’t believe this is our life now” state. Six months of learning to let go of what we thought would be and embrace what is. Six months of tears and prayers and hope.
So much has changed. So much is clearer now. First and foremost, we thank God Dad is still here with us. The strokes were severe, and frankly, they could have killed him. As shocked as we were and still are by his sudden health challenges, had we lost him entirely, it would have been beyond devastating. So thank you, God, for sparing his life.
When we look at the quality of his life we are so saddened by the things that he may never regain – golf, preaching homilies, running down to Safeway several times a week, teaching his last grandchild to drive… these are likely gone. On the other hand, God is big and mighty and certainly able to provide the miracle, so who knows? And, despite our sadness, there is still much about the quality of his life which is oh, so good.
He’s surrounded by the love of family, steadfast friends and an incredible church body.
He eats and swallows anything he wants. When his strokes first hit he was on a feeding tube.
He’s now walking – slowly, but no longer confined to a wheelchair!
He can now get out of his chair by himself – he no longer needs to be lifted.
He seems to be more and more “with it” during speech therapy.
He can sing and recite prayers.
He shows his sense of humor and teases even without using words.
He understands when something is wrong or amiss. Mom always says, “He doesn’t miss a thing.”
He can still be bossy and try to direct us around which is his “old self.”
Words, though few and far between, are slowly starting to come.
So, on this six month anniversary of Dad’s life altering event, we want to say THANK YOU to all of you who have walked this journey with us. Your interest in these updates, your support, your prayers — they really have been the greatest blessing of this whole experience. We’ve been witness to such an outpouring of love. We’re forever changed. ❤️
The day has come and gone. Dad is resting comfortably. We are all still kind of in shock and disbelief that our active, healthy, golfing, preaching, “shucking and jiving” (one of his favorite phrases) DadPapaRon is having to fight this uphill battle. Yet, here we are. We cling to our faith that God is in control. We know He is always good. We take comfort in the fact that He loves him even more than we do. And we pray. We pray for a miracle of healing.
As we’ve read the many comments of love, support and prayers here, on Facebook, through text messages and phone calls we are reminded that God chooses to show His love through His people. And boy oh boy is he showing it through all of you. We feel the fingerprints of God through you. You’re holding us up, and we know the heavens are well aware there’s a big need down here because you’re asking on our behalf. Thank you from all of us in the Horan Clan. Thank you for loving us. Thank you for loving our DadPapaRon. He loves you too, and we pray that he’ll soon be able to tell you all that himself as only he can preach it!
Tomorrow is a new day. Wow, it’s amazing to think how quickly life can change. Hug your loved ones a little tighter tonight and cherish each moment. Life really is good. We take so much for granted. Suffering – and watching suffering – makes us really realize what’s important.
Clinging to the promise that “with Christ all things are possible.”
March 19, 2019 – The eve of Dad’s swallow test so he could get the tube removed from his nose
Faith, Family & Life 