I believe that Death is around every corner.
We learn a lot from our moms and dads, but this is something that I learned by myself. One day my dad had a heart attack. The night before my mom and my dad (who I call Papa) had a fight, not like hitting each other, but more verbal. I was about five when this happened. The next day when I was going to school with my sister, my parents were still fighting.
Suddenly my Papa says, “Pull the car over.” He got out, puked, and sat down.
A white pickup pulled up and asked if we needed help.
“No, Tim, get in the car; we’re going to the hospital,” replied my mom.
When we finally arrived, my sister rushed my dad in where he collapsed at a statue. A doctor rushed over and said, “Do you need help?”
My sister was trying to get Papa up and moving, so she just nodded. The doctor called for some help and a stretcher. Papa was driven to a hospital in Albuquerque by ambulance. My mom trailed them in Joe’s (he and his wife are friends of my family) pickup. They took Papa into the emergency room. As my mom, sister and I were running in, my mom left me with my sister chasing after my dad telling us to stay there and wait for Joe and Lisa. I knew their son. His name was Zack. He and I still know each other even though I moved from Taos, New Mexico but that’s a different story for a different time.
When Joe and Lisa got to the hospital, I had been thinking that this was going to scare the heck out of Zack, but he wasn’t with them. Apparently he had been dropped off at school before they got the call. A few minutes later a nurse or someone came out and gave my sister a brown paper bag. We looked inside and we found my Dad’s clothes and other objects (like his knife, he never left home without that old thing).
Later my dad woke up, and in a very bad mood, may I include. He wanted to see my mom. The doctors wouldn’t let him see her. Mom marched in huffing and puffing into the emergency room (she had a very adult conversation at the time with a nurse who wouldn’t let her in to see my dad). She stayed at the hospital until my dad was free to go home.
My dad lived; his five years of close observation up were up last year – his chances of dying from another heart attack are now slim. We still have a nice family, nobody died. My sister got a boyfriend, and they have their own apartment. We have a good life and good friends. But the only question is when will that one corner come for my dad?
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