mr-knowitall's Diaryland Diary

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Reflections

Today marks the 7th anniversary of my father�s death. I�m going to post an old entry I made a while back for tibute. Have a good day,

~Rick

Mr-Knowitall and Father

Written 6/19/01

The phone rings, I answer.

�Rick? It�s Colleen�. Never in the twenty years dad was married to Shirley did my stepsister Colleen ever call me.

�What�s wrong?�

�I just wanted to let you know, that the paramedics are here working on your dad, and they are taking him to Elyria Memorial, Okay? I have to go.�

She hung up. As vague as she was I had no clue what was happening. Immediately I told Cheryl, and we gathered up the kids into a circle, and explained what was going on. Feeling totally powerless over the situation, I asked them all to pray for a moment for my dad. Pray we did, and the heavens seemed like brass. I called my mom, and my brother. I explained what I knew to both of them, and we agreed to meet at the hospital. My sister lived in PA at the time, I called her, but Colleen had already gotten through to her.

I called Colleen back looking for more information. By this time the paramedics had already left with dad and were in route to the hospital. Colleen answered.

�Coll, just what exactly happened?�

�Rick, he had a heart attack, the paramedics worked on him 25 minutes, and they think they got a heartbeat, so they are taking him in now. It�s pretty serious.�

�Okay, I�m on my way�

The drive from Avon Lake to Elyria is not long, usually 15 to 20 minutes. That night it seemed like 15 to 20 hours.

Cheryl dropped me off at the door, and went to park the car. I went to the information desk. They directed me to where my stepmother Shirley was.

She was sitting in a family counseling room. As I walked in, I saw my other stepsister LuAnn crying clutching the woman next to her. I remember her as dad�s physical therapist, but I can�t remember her name.

I sat down across for Shirley, and asked what happened.

�Oh!� she gasped, �he�s gone Rick, I could see it in his eyes, he grabbed his arm, and said �Shirley, I�m having an attack!� and his head fell over to his side with his eyes open.� �I know it, I could see it in his eyes, he�s gone, he�s gone� he�s gone.�

Being eternally optimistic, and having a lot of faith both in my father�s constitution, and in modern medical science, I decided to wait for the doctor. My dear friend Pastor Norfleet was there with his wife Rosemary. He consoled us while we waited.

We didn�t wait long. I wasn�t there more than 5 minutes, and the doctor came in.

He briefly introduced himself; I can�t remember his name either.

�I�m sorry,� he said, looking down at the floor, avoiding eye contact, �His heart was just too weak, and wouldn�t respond. There is nothing more we can do.� �If you want to see him, wait here, and I�ll take you there in a minute�

We talked briefly about arrangements, but I don�t think anything mattered to us much at that point; we were just trying to kill time. It was a long walk back to the triage area where he was.

There he lay on the gurney. Eyes still open, tube hanging out of his mouth. I was pissed. The least they could have done was pulled it out, and shut his eyes. We all gathered around, and sobbed collectively.

�Here they are over here� I heard in the distance, I looked over across the room and saw my mom and brother standing there. I could tell instantly they did not know. I then told my mom and brother, that dad had passed on.

My best friend died.

In the years that followed, whenever I would have a cool idea, I would pick up the phone, and suddenly realize, he wouldn�t be there.

When I had a problem with my car, I would pick up the phone, and suddenly realize, he wouldn�t be there.

When I had problems with Cheryl, I would pick up the phone, and suddenly realize, he wouldn�t be there.

Recently I called Shirley to let her know I was going to be in town, and I wanted to visit. The answering machine picked up, and my fathers voice is still on the greeting. Creepy.( As of today, 2/16/04 that message is still on her machine)