My Father
My father was born in 1948 and is 58 years old. A few years ago he had a stent put in near his heart, and it really freaked me out since I had just moved to Arizona. Also, they found out sometime he had had a heart attack. It was hard for me. I felt like life would pass me by and my family would be gone without me knowing them as an adult and father myself. Sometimes I feel like life goes too quickly and other times I feel like I have decades left to spend with people.
When my grandfather died it didn’t really bother me that much. He was 90 and I knew it was coming, but still… I think I was more worried about my own father since his father just died.
When I saw my father in October, he could barely get around. He has some kind of fungal problem on his feet and can barely walk sometimes. My brother told me he wants to get married, have kids, and a good job sooner than later, since he sees our father barely get around now and he’s not even 60.
Last night he sat on the couch reading a book with his feet up, and he kept getting short of breath. He stood to go to the bathroom and almost stumbled over. He then went to bed before 8PM.
Tomorrow he goes to the hospital to get his heart looked at. My mother, who is a nurse, said that depending on what they find, they may either put more stents in, or, worse case scenario, they may do open heart surgery. That scares me.
Seriously, I’d like to be there for him, and he flew to Florida in the 80s when his father had his chest cut open. And as I write this, it freaks me out more. I mean it’s my dad, and there’s so much I still want to see him do, and so many conversations I’ve not had with him yet, that I still run through in my head all the time. And there’s still the unresolved relationship between him and Jaime, and I don’t think Jaime can deal with another one of those. Seriously.
I’ve got nothing more for you. Nada. Nothing.

An East Coast family living deep in the Southwest.