My Dad

This is my Dad.

His name is Scott. He's currently 53 years old and he's living (and according to him, playing dodge ball and hide and seek...with the other elderly residents) in South Jordan in a nursing home.

(We're 99% positive he made up that he's played school yard games at the home.)

I'm thankful for him, not only for the years of being my Dad - his unintentionally funny one-liners, "Well I'm sorry that doesn't tickle your fancy!!!", and his sometimes weird but fitting wisdom. I constantly use one of his pearls of wisdom to this day:

"You know Jessica, sometimes you just have bad days. And then all you can tell yourself is that at least it can't get any worse. And you know what happens the next day? It gets worse. And then you tell yourself that it can't possibly get any worse. But sometimes it does. But eventually it will get better. It always will."

Unfortunately in May of 2006 he suffered from the effects of a ruptured aneurysm. (Subarachnoid hemorrhage.) This left him mentally and physically disabled. He also has a hard time with memory from the last 30 years. He knows us and recognizes us all as his family, but anyone that isn't close family he'll have a hard time remembering. He lives in a home because there are just some things he can't accomplish on his own without a few extra hands. Unfortunately the damage caused is permanent. There won't be any improvement, but we're very lucky to still have him here with the ability to walk, talk and recognize us. In his position, the the damage done to his brain, we've been told time and time again that he's a walking miracle and shouldn't be here with us.

And I think that is definitely something to be thankful for tomorrow and I'll make sure to tell him when I get to see him at dinner.