I grabbed his hand and the strength and reserve that had kept me going until now rushed out in sobs. He turned his head ever so slightly and held his hand out to me - the youngest and only daughter. Of course, when mom saw me, she started crying all over again.Īnd there in the bed looking fragile and pale, lay my hero - my WWII Navy Vet who drove U-boats my dad who once knelt down cradling my tear stained face and asked me, after my first fight in grade school, if I won my counselor who listened to me cry when life didn't treat me "right". Finding my brothers and their wives waiting for me at the hospital, I pushed into his room and found my mom holding his hand. Unfortunately, due to the fact that I had been drinking, and the fact that my parents live four hours away, I had to wait until morning to "rush" to his bedside. I dialed my sister-in-law - the last one to call - and the first words out of her mouth were, "Dad had a stroke." I had many missed phone calls and text messages. It wasn't until almost midnight when we returned to the kitchen to clean up our mess, and I noticed my phone was blinking. Leaving my phone in the kitchen where we had made our dinner, we escaped to the back room with our dinner, drinks, and several movies. My husband and I decided to ignore the world (the kids at their friends' homes for sleep overs) and binge on movies.
I had the weekend off, the first in a long time.
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