Shock Waves

There have thankfully only been a few times in my life when my heart simultaneously jumps to my throat while the blood drains from my face. Inevitably it has been bad news about one of my parents.

Fourteen years ago yesterday, in fact, I got a call in the late afternoon that my mother had suffered a stroke. It was Easter Sunday and the last thing I expected to hear -- especially about my mom, who I always considered the healthy one. Of course, without hesitation, we hit the road and headed north for that 4-hour drive that -- back then -- included little or no cell phone reception for updates.

It was a rough trip with a whole lot of praying and praying and praying.

In the end, while it was touch and go awhile and downright scary, it was determined it was only a "mild" stroke. It took a few months to recover, but Mom was soon back to her normal self, getting feisty with her grumpy old man and wayward (but wonderful) children as needed.

Crisis averted.

With my dad, however, I'm not quite sure I can count on one hand anymore the times he has put my heart through the wringer. There was that ambulance trip to the Twin Cities when he needed a stent in his heart, that helicopter ride there just 18 months ago with his heart attack, then the congestive heart failure and seemingly critical case of Shingles. That's just all that comes immediately to mind. I think the list could go on and on.

I suspect he is part feline because I'd swear he has 9 lives. That's the problem. He has all these close calls but always, always somehow bounces back to normal.

Eventually.

I got a call today and I am not sure anymore if Dad's already reached #9 in the cat count. He's taken a turn for the worse and, even though I just saw him last weekend for Easter, I am going back Up North in the morning. I'm a bit in shock and denial right now and can't quite put into words what is running through my head and breaking heart.

Part of me is thinking, OK, I am going to see him, hug him, love him and say goodbye, in case this is truly the last time. But that other part of me -- that has seen it all with this stubborn old man -- still believes he's going to bounce back like always.

Realistically, that's a very small part of me that holds that belief. Now I'm just trusting God to get me there safely.

And on time.