I love my dad. He’s 83, lives two hours away (a safe distance for both of us), and he called me Saturday, as I was headed to the local sandwich shop to meet my daughter for lunch.
Me: Hey! How ya doin'”
Dad: Not so good. I fell yesterday and broke my hip. I’m in the hospital.
Dad: Hello? Are you there?
Holy cow. In the next hour I managed to cancel lunch, get my daughter to take care of my dog and fill my grandson’s Easter basket, pack a bag and get on the road. As I left town, I realized I didn’t know what hospital my dad was in. How many could there be, right? Several, actually.
My other daughter called me while I was driving and offered to search for me. I love my daughter and Google, in that order. In a little while she called back with the name of the hospital, address, directions, and my dad’s room number. I really love Google, so you can only imagine how much I love my daughter. And her sister. Equally. And their brother. Equally. I’m serious.
I walked into my dad’s room to find him in bed, somewhat surprised to see me. Like I’d wait a day. C’mon, Dad. He was not in much pain, unless he tried to move his leg. He also scraped up his arm, so he was bandaged from elbow to wrist. But other than that, he actually looked pretty good.
Surgery the next morning went off right on schedule. He broke his hip right at the top of his leg, where the ball part of the ball and socket is. He now has a shiny new metal ball connected to his leg.
When they wheeled him back to his room, he opened his eyes, said, “Am I walking?”, grinned, and closed his eyes again. That’s my dad, and I knew then he’d come through surgery no worse for wear. A couple hours later I told him I’d stay until he got tired, so he dropped his head, feigning sleep, and began to snore. Yep, he’s gonna be fine.
While sitting in a quiet hospital waiting room, I realized how blessed I am. It could have been a horrible outcome. Even at 53, I still look for his humor and guidance every Saturday when I call him for our weekly phone date. I’m glad that date will be kept for awhile longer. Because as he likes to remind us, to know him is to love him.
I hope your Easter turned out as happy as mine.