It takes a spot of courage to stand up tall and a bit of derring-do to rise when you fall

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Serious As A Heart Attack

So it's been determined that yes, my dad had a heart attack. He's doing well and he's looking good but I'm not sure when they're going to release him from the hospital. It could be tomorrow or they could have him stay until he's scheduled for an angiogram.

I'm not sure if my dad will be able to make sufficient changes so this doesn't happen again. Will this be a wakeup call that he heeds? Are there even things within his power to change that could make a difference? Who knows. I guess it's going to be a new chapter that he'll figure out as he goes.

It's made me appreciate more this man whom I don't always feel so close to but would like to. It reminds me of a song I always think of in connection with my dad:

The greatest man I never knew
Lived just down the hall
And everyday we said hello
But never touched at all
He was in his paper
I was in my room
How was I to know he thought I hung the moon
The greatest man I never knew
Came home late every night
He never had too much to say
Too much was on his mind
I never really knew him
And now it seems so sad
Everything he gave to us
took all he had
Then the days turned into years
And the memories to black and white
He grew cold like an old winter wind
Blowing across my life
The greatest words I never heard
I guess I’ll never hear
The man I thought could never die
S’been dead almost a year
He was good at business
But there was business left to do
He never said he loved me
Guess he thought I knew.

Now, our relationship isn't quite that distant. We talk and I know he loves me and he's even told me. But there's a barrier there, an awkwardness that time has barely lessened. We don't have very long conversations and they're rarely anything personal. But I do know he loves me and surely he knows that I love him.

Sometimes these wake-ups, though, make us realize there are some things we don't want to leave to chance and we don't want to leave too late.

11 Comments:

Blogger No_Newz said...

What a terrifiying experience. I'm glad he seems to be doing better. Sending my best to you both.
Lois Lane

7:48 AM, November 28, 2005

 
Blogger mreddie said...

Hope he does well and makes a comeback.

My Dad loved us, I knew that, but he just didn't say it. After his retirement, they moved back to the home place in Miss. and it was at the end of a visit there that I made a decision. As I left, we hugged and I told him that I loved him and he said he loved me too. After that it was spoken at every parting time - I get a little misty just thinking about it now. Dad passed in '95.

Thanks for the post and the reminders. ec

12:21 PM, November 28, 2005

 
Blogger jay are said...

I think there does come a point when someone just has to have the courage to be the first one. Why is it so hard sometimes?
Thanks for sharing.

12:56 PM, November 28, 2005

 
Blogger Sometimes Saintly Nick said...

I am sorry about your dad’s heart attack. Hopefully it is a wakeup call and more importantly you father will hear it.

4:14 PM, November 28, 2005

 
Blogger heatherfeather said...

warm fuzzies and happy thoughts transmission from denver to NoCal still intact.

insanely long verification word: xpmcyndi

5:25 PM, November 28, 2005

 
Blogger Michelle said...

So glad he's doing ok. I'm sure this will bring you both that bit closer :) best wishes.

10:38 PM, November 28, 2005

 
Blogger jay are said...

thank you all for your kind thoughts.

9:38 AM, November 29, 2005

 
Blogger DDM said...

I hope that your father will be okay, and I'm so sorry for the worry you've experienced while trying to figure out what happened!

12:50 PM, November 29, 2005

 
Blogger michaela said...

i'm just catching up and i'm so sorry to hear that your family had such a scare. but he's ok - so hooray!

i find that jolts to the system are necessary now and again. hopefully the wall will come down a bit?

1:24 PM, November 29, 2005

 
Blogger lisa schamess said...

The song also reminds me of my dad in a slightly different way: the ways in which we cannot understanding, until we are parents ourselves, all the dreams our parents set aside so they can nurture our dreams. My dad had a big studio set up in the garage where he executed excellenbt-to-horrible oil paintings we still have, and made figures in clay. When I was five I remember driving to his pottery lesson with him in his old VW bug. Only a few years later he was all business: a big family car, all the art stuff in the garage, and lots of papers spread on the dining room table every tax time so he could file like clockwork, right on time. Sigh. He was a good dad.

3:48 AM, November 30, 2005

 
Blogger jay are said...

yes, I think it's all too easy to forget our dads were young and had dreams bigger than they were. Then, with kids, their dreams change. I know my dad always wanted to live on a farm and give us kids all that space to freely roam. He always felt bad that he hadn't been able to do that for us when really it was his dream more than ours. Parents set aside more than we understand until, like you said, we become parents ourselves.

8:51 AM, November 30, 2005

 

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