June 21st

The start of summer is historically a day that marks pool trips, frozen treats, and relaxation. The longest day of the year used to be one to go out with friends, enjoy cookouts, and be joyful. The longest day of the year: June 21st. 

As I fell to my knees hearing my own voice echoing a harrowing noise, I realized I was screaming from the very depths of my soul. 

My husband, Sam, and I were out to dinner with our new puppy’s foster parents to finalize her adoption. I had just finished a work call, and all I wanted was a cider and some nachos. I just sat down to join our friends when my mother called, a normal nightly call to signal her leaving work. I ignored it. I had a cider to enjoy. Sam’s phone started ringing, my mother. He calmly digested the facts, hung up, and relayed them to me. 

My father was unconscious and on the way to the hospital. They had been doing CPR on him for over an hour. 

Frantically I search for my phone, called my mother — no answer; called my uncle — no answer, called my aunt — no answer. Repeat. Finally, my aunt answered, and I was faced with the fact that this was going to be a long night of waiting for answers. 

We rushed home and I was determined to get from Texas to South Carolina that night without delay. I started to throw clothes in a bag and pack the dog’s items as I waited with my phone gripped in my hand. We were driving to South Carolina if it was the last thing I did. 

The Phone Call

I was letting the dogs back in the house before loading up the car for our road trip when my uncle called. I picked up desperate for good news: “What’s going on?”

Slowly the phone slipped from my fingers as I fell to my knees in front of the back door of our newly decorated house. I screamed, uncontrollably. 

As I sobbed on my knees I flashed back to my last conversation with my father the day before. I flashed back to his visit the previous month where we decorated the house. I flashed back to every dance recital, every prom, my wedding — every big event in my life. Everything. Nothing was ever going to be the same. Nothing. 

On the 24-hour drive to South Carolina, I realized my life had been altered beyond repair. I would never have my normal life back. What I did not realize was how hard this journey to a new normal would be, or how many detours I will have taken before I feel a little less broken.