Frail...

Physically, spiritually, emotionally frail. Left to ourselves, we all are any one of these. It has been four days since my father was discharged from the hospital and I continue to be haunted by the same dream since he initially went it...myself laying in a hospital bead unable to breathe on my own, wishing I could go outside with my children and play with them.

Now I don't know if my dad even brushed up against death while he was in the hospital, but I feel that this is just the beginning of what will be many hospital admissions for him until he departs this life. He's only sixty-five and he told me that he knows he won't live to be very much older.

God! I don't want that to be me. For the past eight years I have let my frailty get the best of me...and it is very much all my fault. I choose to eat fast-food, to not excercise, to light up a smoke whenever I feel stressed or for just the hell of it. Why can I not make the right choice or am I just too stuborn to make the right choice. I have made too many promises, too many quick responses of "I'm going to quit" as soon as this or that happens.

Well, tomorrow I will once again embark on the wearisome journey of quiting smoking. I have one more left, which I am saving for just the right moment this evening, and that will be it...I hope.

I need to do this...I need to be strong...Father grant me the strength I need and the wisdom to make better choices concerning my frail being.