The God shot blogs are brought to you by HPN (Higher Power Network) . We now return you to our regularly scheduled blogging here on WHWH (WHAT comes out from my HAND is WHAT”S inside of my HEAD)

I was talking to a new patient at work. He was there detoxing from alcohol.

One of the best part of working the night shift is the time I get with my patients. The techs on the day shift are so busy with intakes, discharges, meetings coming in, setting up doctor appointments, etc., that they don't get as much time to just sit and talk with them.

I do.

And I love it.

Except for any late admissions, vitals every 4 hours, and count every 2 hours, the majority of my time is spent hanging out with, talking and listening to, my patients.

I remember the night techs that talked with me when I was a patient here. I still trip on it sometimes that I'm now that tech.

The patient I was talking with this night was a cattle rancher from Colorado. He has children and we were talking about them, about alcoholism, and about God.

I told him my story.

About Joy's accident. Her death. Prison. A decade of drinking and drugging. Giving up. Surrendering. Finding a sponsor. Working the steps. Meeting God.

And getting a glimpse of God's plan for me.

I told him how I let Joy know I am doing good and keeping my promise to live a life that would make her proud;

By going to the cemetery and talking with her at her grave.
I told him that he had his children right there in front of him.

With him.

Alive.

And he had an opportunity to make it right. To make his children proud of him.

He told me of the time he and his daughter had connected, really connected.

They were going to a rodeo, and had to stop for gas. They were out in the middle of the Midwest, with only one gas station in range, hauling a trailer full of horses.

They pulled in, as the sun was setting.

Across from this petrol oasis was a cross.

A huge cross. About 180 feet tall, he remembers.

As they stopped to look at it, the setting sun caught it just right,

And it glowed!

As they stood there in awe and in its radiance, something happened.

He can't describe what 'it' was, only what 'it' did.

It, brought him and his daughter together.

For the rest of their trip, they talked.

They bonded.

They had an understanding that only a father and daughter can understand.

He remembers 'That' moment.

And he is going to get it back.

I thought of my own father/daughter moment.

That moment.

And I told him about it.

And about how alcohol would always be a part of 'that' memory.

Though my love for Joy was beyond what words can describe, if I had to, I would tell of the first time I ever touched her, and she touched me.

The first time we touched, not the first time I should have touched her. I f***ed that up.

Big time.

Becky and I had just gotten back from the doctor. Our baby was a breech baby, meaning it was head up, instead of head down.

The good news? "It's perfectly safe. We'll just do a c-section. Your baby is just fine." The doctor told us.

The best news? I was going to have a BOY!!! A sonogram showed we were having a boy!

I had his name picked out; Charles Anthony.

On the day of April 4, 1982, my friend Bryan and I went to the store to get a bottle of Champagne. As the due date had started approaching, I'd switched from beer to Champagne, after all I was going to be a Daddy!

Becky would have the occasional sip from my glass, but mostly drank fruit juices.

When we returned from the store Becky met me at the door, kissed me, and said, "Let's go Daddy. The time has come."
Bryan drove us. All the way there I was telling Becky everything was going to be ok, while I drank the Champagne.

It's easy now to see I should not have drank; but at the time I had no idea it was wrong. I was still in the "It's just for fun" stage. I was more nervous than Becky, and I needed a drink.

I finished the bottle.

When we arrived at the hospital and the nurses had taken Becky away, I called our parents to give them the news.
When my Dad arrived I was drunk. As he approached, smiling, he suddenly stopped.

"Have you been drinking?" He asked.

Accused.

We got into a fight and he left.

On the day I was to become a Dad, I ran my Dad off.

A doctor came over, they were waiting on the pediatrician and it would be a couple of hours before everything was ready to start. Becky was already under sedation. If I wanted to go home and come back in 3-4 hours…?

The rest is a blur.

Bryan and I went back to my house to wait and to continue the celebration, and…

This is my legacy to my daughter's birth – I missed it.
I told you I f***ed it up, big time

I woke up the next morning with the sun shining in through the window, and no hangover. I felt pretty good. I stretched, yawned, and froze.

Clarity slammed into me.

I jumped up, got in my car, and flew to the hospital.

As I entered Becky's room, I was stopped in my tracks.

Becky was surrounded by doctors.

I grabbed the doorway as the floor seemed to shift under my feet.

"What's wrong?" I asked, still frozen.

Everybody turned toward me.

And started laughing.

I was confused.

They parted as I made my way towards the bed.

"Everything is fine," A nurse said as I joined them, "We're just admiring the great 'bikini cut' the doctor gave her."

I looked myself and saw Becky's scar ran right along the edge of her pubic hair line, instead of vertically. She could, indeed, wear a bikini without it showing.

She was one of the first women to get one.

"That's terrific, Honey!!" I said, as I pulled her sheet back up. "But there are too many guys here, great scar or not!"

Everybody laughed again and the crowd started leaving.

"Did you see her yet?" Becky asked, as she grabbed my hand.

"HER?!?" I asked, looking to see if she'd been celebrating with a few drinks. "It's a boy. A BIG boy! The sonogram said so!"

Everybody laughed again.

I was confused, again.

"Well he's a she," A doctor said, "And the 'Big' part must have been one of her fingers!"

Oh, did everybody think THAT was hilarious.

I told Becky I'd be back, and went to see 'HER'.

I walked to the nurse's station to get directions to the newborns nursery.

I must have been mumbling to myself, because the nurse behind the desk asked me, "What's wrong, Sugar?"

"The sonogram said it was a boy.

It kicked like a BOY!" I said, still half talking to myself.

"Ah! So that's what it is," The nurse laughed. "Just you wait."

"What am I going to do with a GIRL?" I asked, as we walked down a hall and visions of boys knocking on my door ran through my head.

She laughed again.

"Everybody sure was happy in this place." I grumbled.

She took me to the glass wall of the nursery and I saw my daughter for the first time.

There were rows of babies, but I knew which she was right away.

She looked just like her Daddy! And she was looking right at me, too. As if she knew who I was, too. As if she'd been waiting.

O.K., so it was probably wishful thinking, along with the Champagne I'd had last night. Infants can't even see clearly, can they?

But still…

She was looking right at me.

The nurse had gone inside and was now picking her up and bringing her out.

My palms were sweating as she placed Joy in my arms for the first time.

I looked at my little girl, looking at me. Then she reached up and wrapped her hand around one of my fingers, and her soul around my heart.

"Hello beautiful," I whispered. "What would I do without you?"

The nurse laughed behind me, "I told you." She said as she walked away.

THAT moment.

If I could describe in words, that moment, I would own Hallmark greeting cards.

The new patient said good night and went to bed.

Two fathers talking about THAT moment with our daughters.

We'd just had a moment.

peace

 
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