Thanksgiving Eve

Today is the day before Thanksgiving. A year ago today--the Wednesday the day before Thanksgiving--was a regular work day for me. While the students and teachers in my school district don't work the day before Thanksgiving, it IS a work day for the office staff, and I got up as I do every work day at 5 AM to exercise. If the weather is nice enough (not raining and above 40 degrees) I go running. If it's not, I use the elliptical and the universal weight machine in the basement. Last Thanksgiving Eve morning I had just gotten on the elliptical when I heard the phone in the basement ring. I leaped off the elliptical machine and sprinted to the phone. I was the only one awake in the house; everyone else had started their Thanksgiving Break, and I didn't want them to wake up.

I grabbed the cordless phone off its dock and looked at the name on the caller ID. I expected it to be the board of education phone number, or some cell number of someone from work, someone calling to let me know that the Internet was down or the electricity was out or something of that sort. The phone number wasn't local, though, and the name on the Caller ID said "Black, Ann." My sister. My head was spinning as I answered the phone. My sister never called me pretty much ever, much less at 10 minutes after five in the morning. I knew something was wrong.

She told me, in a pretty matter of fact, unconcerned voice, that our dad had been taken to the hospital overnight with a burning in his chest and pains. She also said, though, that he had just changed his blood pressure medicine two days before, and that he'd been feeling bad ever since.

"Oh," I said, feeling relieved. "That's probably all it is, then. He's having a reaction to his new medicine. They'll keep him for a day or two just to check him and he'll be fine." She told me she'd keep me informed, and then we hung up. My wife, who HAD been awakened by the phone ringing, had also seen the name on the caller ID and had also had the same feeling of dread I had. She'd picked up the extension in the bedroom and heard the conversation I'd had with my sister, and she came downstairs and asked me if I was going to stay home from work and drive down to Frankfort to see my father. I told her no, it didn't sound like it was really all that serious. I was going to finish my workout and go into work, and that's just what I did.

I'd been at work for just a couple of hours, though, when my other sister called to tell me that my father had had a heart attack, a pretty serious one, and he was being transferred to a hospital in Lexington. I bolted out of work quickly, telling the receptionist at the front desk as I whizzed past her, "My father's had a heart attack. I won't be back in today. Wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving and I'll keep you guys informed." And I took off for Frankfort.

The rest of the day is really fuzzy for me. I was thinking about writing this post earlier, and it occurred to me that I don't remember whether--that first time I drove down to Lexington--my wife was with me or not. It seems to me that maybe she was, but I can't imagine what we would have done with the kids, and I also can't imagine that--with our house being in the opposite direction from my work as the hospital in Lexington--that I would have been composed enough to turn north on the Interstate and go home rather than turning south and immediately heading for the hospital. I do remember being in the hospital with most of my family, and I remember my older sister and me going into a consult room to talk to the surgeon who said that, as soon as my father stabilized, he'd operate. He said it would most likely be Tuesday, but then my father's doctor came in and said he wanted the operation to happen sooner, Sunday if possible. Both days seemed so far away to me, but when I saw my father that day he looked pretty good, and I know that I went home that night and came back down the next day with my entire family.

I don't mean to give you a point by point of the day. All I'm trying to say is this: My father died the Monday after Thanksgiving, and from Wednesday until then is all kind of a mush of memories in my brain. And I'll be thinking about my father a lot today. When my alarm goes off in just a few minutes at 5 AM, and when I get on the elliptical and start my morning workout, that phone call from my sister last Thanksgiving Eve will be large in my mind.