The Nightmare That Wouldn’t End Would Change Me Forever
I just sat down and stared ahead….wanting nothing more than to simply rest. But it had only just begun.
I’m writing it down because it is good to remember.
My Dad called that morning…
”Kelly, I’m headed home to have Mom take me to the ER. I’m having chest pains and I feel nauseated.”
I scolded him for waiting–he had been having pains since the night before. And I knew if he was voluntarily going to the ER, it was serious.
(For the record, due to some tornadoes and storms that had passed through that morning doing a lot of damage, my mom was unable to get through to 911 when she first called.)
My Dad is not “old and feeble.” In fact, he hasn’t really changed his pace at all over the years. He’s a farmer/construction worker. He goes full speed ahead six days a week. He is never sick.
Dad is our family’s patriarch. He’s the “well of wisdom.” He answers our questions, gives advice, and is, in general, the rock that makes everything seem secure. Since we live on their farm, we’re all the closer to my parents–feeling more like an extension at times.
