hmmm...what now?

so the job possibility that i thought was "the" possibility has quickly faded into an almost non-existent memory. i have no peace about this position at all...when i think about it my stomach quickly turns around and i feel like i just saw an ex-boyfriend i haven't seen in years. so i'm thinking that it's God's way of saying, "amy, keep being patient." although i don't like this idea, i'm trying. i really am. i am so ready for whatever is next in my life. i'm tired of waiting...i'm getting old. and to be honest, i'm impatient with being patient.

i've thought a whole lot about life the last couple of days as i've driven my dad to the hospital in louisville for his radiation treatments. he hasn't been feeling well enough to drive, so i've been playing taxi driver. i really don't mind. i don't mind driving with the radio down low, barely loud enough to hear. i don't mind that my dad mutters random things that have no relevance to anything. i don't mind the lull in conversation. i don't mind counting cars that are broken down on the side of the road (his idea of fun). i don't mind listening to the lite music station. i don't mind the fact that he even asked me to take him (although it definitely bruised his ego). i can't think of a better way to spend my day. it's not often that i get to spend time with my dad. and it breaks my heart to see him this vulnerable. when i first got home 3 days ago, my dad called and told me that he was feeling really sick and as much as he wanted to see me, he didn't want me to come over. so the next morning i called him to check on him and that's when he asked me to drive him. i went to meet him at his apt. he was standing outside waiting for me. he's thinner than when i left, but he has a large belly due to the medicine he's been on. his skin is more white and less red than it has been in a couple years and it's less flaky. and i almost broke down into tears when i saw his head. he has lost almost all of his hair and what was left, he had shaved. yes, he was balding, but he looks so much older, so different. it really scared me. i know how much pain he's in, even though he says he feels so much better. it scares me to death when he talks about how he's worthless, or not good for anything, or how he's just ready to give up. i joke about it and try to shrug it off...but it really kills me. i think today it hit me just how bad off he really might be. i know everyone always asks me, "how's your dad?" and i reply with "well, he's doing okay." he's doing better, but he's definitely not okay. he can barely walk. we parked right outside the hospital entrance and he barely made it inside. he was breathing heavy and could barely catch his breath. afterwards we went to krogers to pick him up some dinner...he had to ride in one of those little automatic carts, and even that wore him out. he has three treatments left. three. on monday he'll be done. then what? i'd love to know, but until then i suppose i'll keep being daddy's little girl.