Tuesday, February 9, 2010

There Are No Words

There are no words to express the emotions I have had running through my mind and body the last few days. And that's why I have been staring at a blank page for the better part of an hour.

What words can I use to tell you that while I was celebrating Superbowl with friends, drinking beer and dealing with the drama of a fight that broke out at the pub (testosterone and beer aren't always a good mix), my parents were on their way to the hospital, sixteen hours away. What words can I use to tell you that while the police were taking my information outside of the pub to make a statement I got a foreboding text to call my parents right away. What words will explain the feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you hear the words,

"Your Dad just had a heart attack. He was rushed to the hospital. He's in stable condition. I'll let you know information as I find it out."

What words can describe the following twenty four hours as I waited to hear the news that he was going to be alright. This was a warning, and a wake up call. He's now going to be on heart medication. He's going to be in the hospital and off work for awhile. He's going to have to change his lifestyle drastically. He's going to have to change everything dramatically.

What words can describe the anger I felt that he placed himself in this situation. Years of smoking and gravy and bacon and rye. All of it leading towards a moment, a call, a situation that although devastating was not entirely unexpected. The long hours and stressful days that could have lead up to it. The anger of remembering the conversations where I pleaded to get a side salad rather than fries and gravy.

What words can describe the guilt I feel. Lectures about smoking while secretly keeping a stash in my purse sleeve. Late night milkshake runs knowing he is supposed to watch his cholesterol. Questioning his career choices in the economy rather than supporting. Not understanding the burden of his stress.

What words can describe the thanks I have to a God I am not certain exists, that my Dad was in a center where there is an actual medical facility not a mining camp. That my mom was able to see the symptoms and react quickly. That the cardiologist happened to be on shift. That he gave my Dad a warning, rather than making him an example. I have wept to God more in the last two days than I can remember.

What words can I use to describe that right now I am scared and terrified. I am angry, and I am guiltridden , but most of all I am thankful that he has been given a second chance. I am emotionally raw, and the nerve endings are exposed. I feel like a small girl that just wants to go and be hugged by her Dad cause I know that Dad's hugs make everything better. But knowing full well that I need to be the strong one right now. Because my Dad's heart needs to heal, even when my heart feels like its breaking.