There is this unexplainable bond between a dad and his daughters....
at least there is with my dad and this particular daughter.
My dad has always been one of the strongest men I know.
He was my first knight in shining armor.
He held the hose and sprayed cold water on my foot when i dropped a brick on it. He asked me if I could wiggle my toes. I could, so he told me it's probably not broken and if I lay on the sofa a little bit, it will feel better soon.
He had the heaviest baseball bat I ever used. He used to hit balls out to my sisters in the evenings, and my goal was to one day be able to hit as far as he did. When I hit my first home run way out into center field, he was the first one I thought of.
He tried to tell me what x-rays are like the first time we thought I broke my ankle. (yes there were several times x-rays were needed.)
He grabbed me from the table and sat me in the sink of cold water, when hot gravy got spilled on me.
He took me to the ER when a dizzy spell and a conk on the head made me forget what I had done the last 2 days.
He taught me to parallel park, and apparently he taught me well. I passed my drivers test.
He went with me when I bought my car.
He has been there through sprains & strains & knee surgeries & heart issues. He taught me to explore, to figure things out, and to think for myself.
Yesterday my dad went for a stress test. They discovered that sometime in the recent past, my dad had a heart attack, and the left ventricle is only functioning at 17%.
So he is scheduled for a heart catherization, and more tests and doctor visits.
I wish I could rescue him like he has rescued me so many times.
I wish I could tell him to wiggle his toes and lie down a little and it will be OK.
But it doesn't work that way.
So, I'm putting my hero in the the capable hands of The Hero.
and it's all gonna be OK
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