Sunday night, the call came from the Rehabilitation Facility where my dad had been recovering since his stroke on December 27. "Your dad's been rushed to the hospital. It doesn't look good. Come quickly." That's the kind of phone call that brings you to your knees and it did me.
All throughout the agonizingly long car ride across Phoenix to the hospital, I kept thinking how I wanted one more moment with my dad, one more time to tell him what a great father he'd been, one more chance to tell him how much I loved him. Fortunately I got my chance but it got me thinking about how there will never be enough moments and seconds when it comes to my Dad. I'll always want one more.
Dad is still hanging on but for how much longer we don't know. There are so many unknowns. Trooper that he is, we fix one medical issue but find another. For now I'm cherishing every moment that I can hold his hand and tell him how much I love him.
I've received so many kind emails and messages. Thank you. Thank you for thinking of my dad.