the lucky one
I find myself thinking in my unoccupied moments (driving in the car, taking a shower, walking the halls at school) about how thankful I am that my dad is still here with us.
It’s been almost 8 months since we almost lost our favorite guy. I caught some tears sneaking out of my eyes a few days ago because in a fleeting moment I was thinking and really trying to find an answer to the question, “what if he wasn’t here?”.
I don’t know why our family got so lucky. I hear and read stories from friends and strangers alike who are left with a sudden void when someone they love is taken from them. My heart sinks when I try to imagine their pain. Why are they presented with such hardships? Why must they fight out life with one less member of their personal army?
I have no answers to such questions. But I do know that I am one of the lucky ones. I get to see my dad get stronger every day. I got to see my dad flirt with death and come back to us. I got to hold my dads hand, be beside him, and love him in what looked like his final hours. I faced my biggest fear of losing a parent. I collapsed into a pile of tears on my living room floor of my childhood home that is not home without my family. I was reminded of just how fragile and precious this life is.
And 8 months later, I’m reminded every day of just how lucky I am to be able to love and enjoy him while we are both still on this earth. I get to hear his voice and feel his warm hugs. I get to make him shake his head at something I say and I get to go for a 3 mile walk with him and discuss the economy, politics, and social injustice. I get to watch him as he showers my nephew with adoration and stick by my mom’s side faithfully. I get to still imagine him meeting my future husband and children. I get to see him attempt to beat up my 33-year old brother and watch the Iggles, Phillies, Flyers, and Sixers with him.
I still have him and I am so incredibly thankful for the doctors who gave their overtime, their skill, and their hearts to keep my dad’s beating.