I’m sitting here this morning, thankful that Dad got some sleep. He woke up at 9am, wondering if I had slept late. Nope. I was awake at 7am. Who the hell can sleep when the temperature is still in the 70s, and any movement causes droplets of sweat to form on your forehead?
Last July 4th, Dad fell and had a heat stroke. A heat stroke that wouldn’t have happened if the ambulance had been here sooner. My heart thumps hard and fast just thinking about it. Tears start to come. I thought I was going to lose him.
The first few days in the hospital were iffy. When they took him off the vent, he began to improve. I was more hopeful. Poor Dad didn’t know what was going on. When he spoke, no one could understand him. It was hard to see him in this state. I’m so thankful for family and friends who came to the hospital to see him, and to sit with me. Some cried with me, some shared memories with me, and some brought me food when I hadn’t eaten all day. The support was amazing.
A few weeks later, unnecessary family drama followed. Why someone would kick another person when they are at their very lowest point, I don’t know. I guess it says a lot more about them than it does about me. I was worried about how I was going to take care of Dad by myself, how I would be able to help my sister take care of him, and also how the hell I was going to get the new house done. I was consumed by thoughts and feelings that I can’t even share with you because it hurts to go back there. This is where the coping tools my therapist taught me years ago come in handy.
I’m glad Dad is here with me a year later. He’s 89 years young now, and I pray every year that he will reach his next birthday in February.
Happy Independence Day, my friends! Stay safe and, for goodness sake, watch your children so they don’t get hurt!
Thanks for reading!




