Memory Monday

Each day I sit down at the computer and try to piece together the perfect words for my posts. Today's memory is about the failure of language, it takes place last February....it seems like a lifetime ago. Six months pregnant I got a call no daughter wants to receive.

When words are not enough.....

It was the Monday after Valentines Day when my phone rang and I heard these words "Now please don't worry. We are sure it's nothing but your dad has been hospitalized for chest pains." My father and his fiance had decided to go on a long weekend trip for the holiday and were hours away from home when this medical emergency struck. I hung up and thought to myself "I'm sure it's nothing...everything will be fine....." Well it wasn't my father had experienced an aortic dissection a very serious and often fatal heart condition. Six hours later my phone rings again the tone is drastically different from the preceding call "Your father has to undergo very risky open heart surgery. He really wants you here, there is a chance he might not come through." Dazed I hung up the phone and frantically packed for the 5 hour trip to the hospital. After a long car trip with two small children and a pregnant woman we finally arrived. It was well after midnight and visiting my father would have to wait until the morning. His surgery was schedule for 6 am and we were allotted a half hour to spend with him. In the morning I arrived at my father's room blurry eyed and scared. This could be my last half hour with my father...one of the greatest men I have ever known. What does one do with such precious time. What do you say to a man who means so much to you? I hold his hand and try and keep the barrage of tears from flowing. I do not want this to be a goodbye...I want to fill the room with hope...with a promise of tomorrow, I want to believe my father will hold my unborn son. The doubts begin to eat away at my optimism and I mull over the potential last words I want to say to my father.... I love you, thank you, I will hold you in my heart forever, your my best friend. I realize there are no words great enough to express what my father means to me...language in incapable of imparting the love I posses for him. I mutter a few meager words "I love you" and "see you soon" trying to force a smile. I hold his warm hand hoping it's not the last time I feel his comforting grasp. The minutes quickly slip by and it is time to let my father go....I can not even reach down and kiss him over my burgeoning stomach. In a moment he is gone, his future unknown...I feel I have failed, I did not say enough.

Luckily and dare I say "miraculously" my father came through, and three months later after three more surgeries my father finally came home. I have now been given a second chance at not only telling but showing my father how much he means to me. So Dad just in case you were wondering "I love you!"

Here is a picture of us 4 months post surgery at O's Fancy Nancy Birthday party.