“Riley, I just want you to know that I’m proud of the woman you’ve become. All your mom and I have ever wanted was for you to be successful and happy,” my dad said and I could see the effort it took him to speak.
“Dad, I know. You don’t need to tire yourself out by telling me stuff you’ve already told me a million times,” I scolded teasingly, patting the back of his hand.
My dad frowned. “Humor your old man, please.” I shut up and propped my elbows on the bed and watched him closely, agonizingly alert for any subtle change in him. My eyes darted to the monitors out of the corner of my eye as if I could understand what they were saying.
“Have a life that matters. A life with purpose. Find your own way but don’t lose sight of the journey. Do this for me,” my dad said softly and I hated the finality of his words. As though he were imparting his final goodbye. It made my heartache and my stomach knot up but I took those words inside me and swore I would live them.
I nodded, wiping the tears from my face, unable to say anything. My dad seemed satisfied and closed his eyes again. After a few minutes, his breathing evened out and I realized he had fallen back asleep.
Feeling emotionally spent, I got up and kissed my dad’s cheek and went back out to the waiting room so that my brother could come back.
Each of us had our time with Dad and then it was time for him to be wheeled back for surgery. His cardiologist came out and talked with Mom and explained how the surgery would go. I hate to admit that I barely listened. Mostly it was a bunch of medical mumbo jumbo that went right over my head.
All I could hear were my dad’s words to me ringing in my ears. Have a life that matters. A life with purpose.
Felicity went outside to call her husband and kids. Gavin went with Mom to get a coffee. I was left in the waiting room staring at the wall. I thought about calling Garrett to see if he had gotten on the road, but I quickly realized I didn’t even have his number.
I checked my texts messages and saw that I had a few from Maysie, one from Gracie and a missed call from Moore Pruitt, the general manager at Barton’s. I sent a quick reply to Maysie and Gracie, letting them know what was going on with Dad. I figured Moore could wait until I knew more. I needed to send an email to my professors letting them know I’d be out for a few days. I also needed to call the newspaper to let them know about my absence. But all that could wait until later.
Until I knew how Dad’s surgery went.
One hour turned into two. Two into three. I ate a horrible lunch of dried out hamburger and greasy fries. Gavin and I argued over what to watch on the TV. Felicity talked Mom into taking a walk on the nature trail behind the hospital.
But the minutes crawled by like years. It was by far the longest day of my life. And when the doctor finally came out to find us it was only four hours later.
My blood rushed through my ears and all I could hear was Dad had done well and was now in recovery. My knees buckled and I had to sit down in relief. Felicity started to cry and my mom’s shoulders were shaking.
The doctor continued to talk about things they were going to be looking for and the fact that the next twenty-four hours were critical. But all I heard was my dad had gotten through his surgery all right.
The relief I felt in that statement couldn’t be described in words.
Once we had time to process that Dad had pulled through, Mom insisted I head back to the house and get some rest.
“You look like you’re about to fall over, Ri. We’ll call you if we hear anything more,” Gavin assured me.
I argued that I wanted to see Dad when he woke up but was reminded he would most likely be sleeping for a while and he wouldn’t be allowed visitors until much later.
I needed to sleep, I was feeling almost slaphappy. So I took Mom’s van keys and headed home.
I was surprised to find that my car was still in the driveway. I would have thought Garrett would have been headed back to Bakersville by now.