august 27th

last year, august 27th was a saturday.

last year, august 27th was bright and sunny. not rainy or gray. it wasn't too hot. in fact, i worked all morning on my front yard garden. i transplanted a few things to make space for some tall grass my mom and gramma susie had brought back from indiana.... or somewhere on one of their fabulous road trips.

 i remember standing up after wrestling a hosta out of the ground and saying, "wow. this is just a perfectly beautiful day."

i had just finished my shower and was about to dry my hair when my mom called. my dad had a canoe race that weekend, and she always called with results. it was a shorter race, but it was up in grayling.

"your dad had a heart attack."

i'm sorry... did you just say that? i remember she was eerily calm. WAY too calm for her. i've learned this recently about my mom. she kicks into emergency mode when things get serious, and she has an amazing ability to deliver horrible news clearly and succinctly. unfortunately, she's been in the business of delivering horrible news for the past three years.

"they are air lifting him to saginaw. rich and amanda are driving me there right now."

i remember, with vivid detail, almost everything that happened for the next week. the hospitality house we stayed at, the waiting rooms we chilled in, the horrible cafeteria food we ate, the target i shopped at to get clothes for the week.... even my dad's evil plan to ensure his third stent placement. (they would only open it up if it was some percentage like 95% ... and one of the docs initially had labelled it at something like 90%....politics). the doc that tested it immediately called for the stent, so it was obviously more than 90%, but still we were cracking up joking about his evil plan for the whole day before the test.

it's amazing to think of all the things God did to place my dad in the care of the right doctors, and to not allow him to die on that river. we are just vapors. we have no control over these things.

my dad had been racing intensely for the past 6 or 7 years. the marathon is no joke. but b/c of other family situations, he hadn't done that grueling race for the past couple years. there's no doubt he could have (more likely would have) died had he attempted the marathon with his heart in the shape it was.

rich's wife, amanda, is a nurse. she really hadn't been to as many races, but this time she was there on the bank with my mom. she immediately recognized his symptoms. my dad just thought he had bonked. he was convinced that a peanut butter bagel would get him going again. he couldn't see that his face was gray.

rich and amanda driving my mom to saginaw was the only thing that got her there. there's no way she could have driven herself. and it would have been torture for her to wait for us to get her down to saginaw.

a year later, i can say i'm thankful for that week. i'm glad that i had family and friends jump in and help me with the kids, so i could be there with my mom, dad, and sister. i'm thankful that God used it to remind me, again, that we were not meant to live here forever. i'm glad to know that my dad is convinced of God's saving power. he has said more than once that when faced with death he knew he was ready to accept it. without the promise of heaven i don't know that anyone is every honestly ready to face death. in fact, if they (apart from God) say they are ready to die, i don't believe them. i just don't.

but i'm really glad that my dad is still here. on friday we had a surprise party for him. a surprise mustache party.... fitting since i have only seen him sans 'stache once, maybe twice, in my 32 years. it was supposed to be a birthday party for my sister and me, but we hijacked it and turned it into a "we're glad you're alive one year later" party. for a guy that doesn't like surprise parties, i think he liked this one.