My father has a strong spirit. The cancer is in his throat and as a result he has no voice.
I stepped into his room at the ICU to visit him.
I washed my hands – they were cold.
As I walked towards him and quietly sat next to my 85-year-old father, he gently took my hand, felt it was extremely cold and gently tucked it under his top blanket on his hospital bed to warm it up.
He dozed for a moment…. He woke up…. He slowly reached up to give me a gentle pat on my head.
Sometimes – not speaking can be a nice thing. A blessing….