From Angleton

MONDAY

It’s a fine line I’ve gotta walk here. God knows I pour out my mind and heart here about whatever’s on my mind.

But I have to keep in mind some issues of privacy and respect in this particular scenario. Bear with me.

***

I’m in Angleton at the moment, here because my father is in the ICU. I got the call yesterday afternoon. Bad symptoms, bad business this particular ailment that’s put him in there. Had he not agreed to go to the ER Saturday he’d likely be dead now.

He is expected to live. There aren’t words for how grateful I am for that.

***

I hadn’t been in that hospital since I was maybe eight or nine years old. I’d managed to slice my head open on a clothes rack in some since-gone store. Nowadays it’d mean a lawsuit, but back then it meant a panicked trip to the ER as I bled into my hand, scared my brain would slide out through the gash. Whit’s mother drove.

Dad happened to be in the hospital at the time. He was getting the most thorough physical I’ve ever heard of. Who checks into a hospital for this kind of thing? But he did, and they brought me upstairs to see him.

Downstairs I’d seen EMTs bring in a man in a big, chaotic scene. I can still see them wheeling him past the stairs. He’d been in a skiing accident, hit a bridge support. I believe he lived but lost his arm.

***

Those were the stairs I took tonight as I came and went over the course of a couple visits with Dad.

***

This whole area seems to be stuck in the past somehow, stuck in some never-changing era that’s specific to HERE. As I left the hospital after the first visit, the radio started to play “The Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys” by Traffic. I know I haven’t heard that song in 15-20 years. It was in regular rotation in the 80s on classic rock stations. I guess that hasn’t changed.

And it was followed by “Free Bird.”

***

I was in a daze, though, having left my Dad in that awful state. I know I babbled while there. Poor exhausted, sick Dad. Do I stay kind of quiet, try not to say to much to a guy who must be mentally exhausted too? Or do I just sort of uncork here and there, sharing stories and family updates with a guy who has done nothing but sit upright in a hospital bed and listen to machines beep since Saturday?

I leaned more towards the latter, until he started drifting off to sleep.

***

I found myself turning right out of the hospital parking lot, away from town and towards Whit’s old house. That’s where Whit and I spent so many days and nights finding adventure, prying odd-looking rocks from the soil or wandering along the banks of the creek that skirted the back of the property. Today the house seemed much closer to the road, much smaller than I remembered.

The whole thing just about moved me to tears.

***

From there I wandered to the mall to buy gifts, but that’s a heck of a state to shop in. I managed to spend some money anyway.

***

I saw my sister, and we spoke seriously, albeit briefly, about Dad and what the present and future hold for him and for the family.

Her kids had just wrapped up their naps, and they were both cute as they played with the late birthday gifts I brought them.

***

This evening Dad was much more alert, much more like his old self. I narrowly missed seeing my aunt and uncle there, dang it.

But it was good to see that Dad had eaten his first real food in days. He’s just learned that he’s being moved out of the ICU soon.

***

I’m not sure when I’ll return to work. What can I say? It’s not exactly my first priority at this point. They’ve been very understanding regarding all this.

I’d like to see Dad make some good strides, start to feel better and be ready to come home. I’d like to know when I leave that he’s in the home stretch, about to be up and around again.

***

Then, of course, there’ll be the matter of what happens from here on out.



TUESDAY

I’m home now, back in Hurst with my family. Dad was moved out of the ICU last night. The stuff they’re monitoring has been “okay,” according to the doctor, and there’s talk of Dad being released tomorrow.

Several people came to see him this morning. I really wanted to be alone with him, but I had to wait until after lunch.

In fact, I was on my way out of town when I stopped in to see him. It’s not like they send up some sort of flare in this situation. You’ve kinda got to make a judgment call. Dad’s improved, sounding and acting more like his usual self. I’ve got two papers due in the next four days, one of which is 75% written, and one of which I’ve not begun.

Tomorrow is also a double log day at work.

***

I’d told THEBOY he could call me whenever he wanted while I was away, and he did. The first night he was in tears before I was two hours away. Consequently, so was I.

I promised I’d bring him a nice surprise. Over the course of several calls his request changed from “something big and cool” to this particular Spider-man web-shooting gizmo he’s been eyeing in the store for a long time. I knew he wanted it, but it’s a messy toy that has to be used outside or in the shower, you know? Hard to strap on him, hard to set up correctly. We finally got it going, and for all the effort he got about sixty seconds of goopy Silly String dumped into his palm.

There’s a water-spraying option as well, so he hit the shower. About every thirty seconds I’d have to go in there and refill it or tighten or move something. Just as I expected, the toy was a lot of trouble.

But I didn’t lose sight of the fact that he thought it was just terrific.

***

THEGIRL was very clingy and sweet, peppering me with kisses and commanding, “Up!” from the moment I walked in. I spent several minutes adjusting Kevin’s web-shooting gizmo with her on my hip.

I gave her a Zoe (from Sesame Street) doll. She gave it kisses immediately, and took it to bed with her.

***

I won’t go all Circle of Life on you, but I will admit that the dose of optimism I got from seeing such young, vibrant life in the form of my kids was exactly what I needed after worrying myself sick over Dad.

***

Get better, Pop. We love you.