... you find yourself talking to God even if you weren't sure of your beliefs before that moment.
My father had his surgery today. It was supposed to take six hours or so. About halfway through, the head nurse came to ask us if we wanted a chaplain.
Never have I wanted God to exist more than that moment.
"They" say that the third stage of grief is negotiation/bargaining. It's appropriate as we speak of my father, a union negotiator and area director for decades. Bargaining and negotiations were his specialty. Like my hopes for someone or something with whom/which to negotiate, at that moment I hoped my Dad's teachings stuck in my head.
I was begging, pleading, making deals, and offering my own physical strength; I was willing, and still am, to take illness upon myself if it meant that he would recover.
Every moment is a new hope. Every moment is a new fear.
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