I snicked this picture of my dad and mom.
It was 5:15 in the morning, my dad just helped her use the bathroom and is now giving her pain meds.
When he leaves, I am there to help her when needed.
To make sure she doesn't fall and hurt her broken arm or break anything else.
She's a sneaky one and has fallen on my watch, luckily she didn't do any harm.
I count myself lucky to see first hand how they love each other.
My dad who is obviously tired never lets it show.
He love and cares without thought of himself.
I watch as it kills him to leave for work each morning.
I watch him and know what love looks like.
If I ever had a doubt about their relationship (which I haven't)
there would be no room left for any of it.
I watch my mom struggle with the lost of freedom.
I watch how at times her mind slips.
I sit next to her at church and know that she hurts, but her testimony is strong
even if her body is weak.
I watch her eye's light up when she see my dad.
They belong to each other, they are side by side in their faith and love.
If I take one thing from my mom's stomach cancer, from our families stomach cancer,
it will be their love and the service I see day in and day out from my dad.
I am lucky to have such parents.