this time 2 years ago i was practically living in the hospital, in a hijacked room on the pediatric floor (few children got sick that time, thankfully). i had a broadband stick, my laptop, and a couple of suits in the room. my secretary would bring paperwork to me.
daddy was in the CICU that time, with a tube down his throat to help him breathe.
he'd write things on a piece of paper if he wanted anything and it was an ordeal for him, this strongman who hated inactivity and who prided himself on being able to explain things in his booming voice.
i'd visit with him a few hours each day, since the CICU really did not allow visitors. daddy had his stream of visitors, though, and no one could stop them. except mommy, who would halt the influx of visitors when daddy got tired.
i really thought he would recover. i really did.
we all did.
i never confided in daddy. we did not have that kind of relationship. but i drew strength from him, and mommy. and i miss him so. he always knew that he could make things right, even if we were skeptical. his unwavering faith and determination knew no bounds.
wherever you are daddy (well, i know you're right behind me reading this, but humor me) i know you are happy and healthy and having a grand time with whoever is there. worry not about those you left behind. we are doing okay.
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