With both her brother and sister away at school, our youngest daughter got to experience life as on only child for the last two years of high school. We were still homeschooling, but she also took some dual enrollment classes at a local community college and worked part-time as a barista at Starbucks. We went to Birmingham weekly for her guitar and voice lessons and always managed a quick lunch or coffee with her sister.
Because my husband worked very long hours, she and I were often home alone in the evenings. We would make what we wanted for dinner (or pick up Hibachi from her favorite restaurant) and settle in to watch episode after episode of Friends or Gilmore Girls. The memories of those evenings are precious to me.
In March, we took a quick trip to NYC for her birthday. In April, we talked her Dad into letting us get a new puppy.
In May, while driving home from music lessons in Birmingham, I got a call from my husband. The conversation went something like this:
“Are you driving?” “Yes.”
“I need you to pull over.” “Why? What’s wrong?”
“I just need you to pull over.” (call dropped)
I frantically tried to reconnect while mentally careening through a list of possible disasters. I had recently spoken or texted with our other two children, so I knew they were okay. We were able to reconnect a couple of times, but the calls would either break up or drop completely. He finally managed to tell me he had been in an accident. On the next spotty call he quickly said he was injured but okay, and he was waiting to be air lifted to Birmingham.
At the time, our daughter and I didn’t know that he was being air lifted because the local hospital had lost their trauma accreditation. We were trying to wrap our brains around how he could say he was okay but still have an injury that required air transport. We turned around and went to UAB Hospital’s Emergency Department. After hours of waiting, we got to see him and found out he had an open ankle fracture that required immediate surgery. After that surgery, he was non weight-bearing on that leg for three months which brought many changes and a lot of stress to our home.
On the brink of her high school graduation and last summer at home, our girl had to deal with all the feelings around her upcoming move to college and also the eye-opening realization that life is fragile. Her strong dad who had always taken care of everything and everyone was dealing with terrible pain, loads of physical therapy, and the temporary but complete loss of his autonomy.
To be continued …
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