My dad had a heart attack on Saturday. Luckily, my sister and mother were on the scene and rushed him to the ER immediately after realizing what was happening. Because of their fast thinking and action, they saved my dad's life.
And because they got to the hospital so quickly, there was little to no permanent damage to his heart. He's already home and feeling good.
But it was damn scary.
And it made me realize how much I take my dad for granted. So, this is for you, Dad.
Handing me the church program and a pen so I can scribble quietly, using a hymn book as a hard surface.
Catching me as Gypsy bucked me off her silver back.
Building a treehouse and letting me paint it sea foam green.
Reading The Tall Book of Nursery Rhymes.
Sledding in the summer.
Walking on a nearly flooded road, looking back at Mom, sitting on the hood of our white Pontiac.
Catching white, bloated catfish from the river in Granite Falls.
Blaring Harry Belafonte so loudly, I could hear it two blocks away on my purple unicorn bike.
Letting me have all the change in his pocket for candy. So much change, I can't hold it all.
Making me believe in magic.
Letting me hide in the carpet displays at the lumber yard.
Apologizing for teasing me about a boy.
Digging rivers and channels in the gravel driveway to drain the puddles after the snow melted.
Letting us roller skate in the basement.
Driving to Crazy Horse and getting pissed that it was a rip-off.
Reading the Chronicles of Narnia.
Showing me how to hit a bank shot nearly every time.
Taking us to the used book store in Cross Lake on rainy days.
Breakfast for dinner.
My piano being delivered.
Playing Super Mario Brothers.
My black and white checkered bedroom walls.
Driving an hour to school and work there and an hour back; AM there, FM back.
Bazooka Joe bubblegum.
Sitting with me in the lobby of my dorm.
Taking Ryan shopping to buy dress clothes for our wedding.
Trusting me to draw for the Wood Mill printed materials.
Having to leave the room when we gave him the scrapbooks that held all of our photos since forever.
Telling me to never kiss ass.
Building a crib for my daughter.
Telling me to sleep while he watched Norah. Listening to him talk to her while I'm laying in bed.
Telling his coworkers about my book. Being proud of me.
Taking Norah and me to the farmer's market.
Driving to the mill in Annandale.
Reading Norah stories on Halloween.
Looking right at me in the hospital, and me knowing he was going to be okay.