Wednesday, March 5, 2014
One and Only Dad
Just as we were sitting down for dinner, my phone rang. It was one of my brothers. We typically talk at least several times a week. I answered, made a smart-aleck remark, and then he asked (in a serious tone) if I had a minute to talk. From the tone in his voice, I hated having to say that I didn't, but let him know I'd call back right after supper.
My imagination was getting the best of me when I returned his call after an expedited meal. We started with small talk and I was beginning to think the concern was unwarranted. That thought was short-lived.
The news was that our Dad had a pretty bad day on Monday. You see, my 83-year-old father lives in a constant state of cardiac arrest. He's had this since he had rheumatic fever as a young teen. Every time he sees a new physician the nurse who checks his vitals practically has a heart attack because he doesn't ever have a steady heart beat. Ever. Despite this, he's lived through brain surgery and other health issues. But on Monday, he could hardly breathe and had to stop his wood chopping (which I hate him doing, anyway), go inside and lay down. He spent most of the day in bed, was weak, and had chest pains for hours.
Of course, as soon as my brother and I ended our conversation I called my dad and he brought me up to date in his own words. As his words soaked in I felt almost panic that he could be gone forever any day.
Life ends sometimes without warning, and that jolted me. Tonight I realized again how much I love my dad and how absolutely horrible it will be when he passes on. I so hope it's a long time from now.
Posted by Suzanne Gibbs at 7:15 PM