This is a picture of the day that changed my life. I remember that day well. In fact, just a few years ago, I went into my childhood home where, like watching a scene from an old video reel, I remembered seeing the look on my mom's face as she took the call from the wall phone in the kitchen doorway. Someone from the bakery called to say my dad had been in a wreck. I was 9 years old at the time, so I didn't really totally understand what was going on, but I knew whatever it was, it was bad. I just remember asking Mom, "Did Dad die?"
My dad left for work that morning and didn't come home for months. He left that morning able to mow the yard, play ball with us, push us on the swings, all the normal things dads do. By the time he came home several months later, it was just a day-to-day struggle to survive.
The newspaper writer said in the article that Dad was expected to make a full recovery. What he didn't know was the life long implications of the injuries he sustained. He had a broken back, 7 broken ribs, a collapsed lung, broken nose, and his left leg was crushed into fragments from mid-thigh to below the knee. I remember when they talked about putting dad in a full body cast because his injuries were so vast. Thankfully, they were able to treat him without that being the case.
I remember feeling so sad for him when I went in to see him and saw his leg hanging from the metal contraption they had hanging from the ceiling. He had rods going through the bones in his leg that were connected by rods on the outside that were holding his leg up in traction. My dad was naturally a slender man, but during that time he became gaunt and frail, much more than his normal 39 year old self had ever been.
Those first few days were only the beginning of how the wreck would change the course of the rest of all of our lives. Over the following years, dad would have nearly 30 pulmonary embolisms and commonly dealt with blood clots throughout his body due to poor circulation from his injuries. In one of his numerous surgeries after the wreck, he had a stimulator implanted into his back to control chronic pain and that metal box was there for the rest of his life. They removed much of the bone fragments in his left leg and fused what remained together. That shortened his left leg by 2 and 1/2 inches, which resulted and a severe limp. Over the years, his spine curved to compensate.
Eventually the circulation issues led to 5 heart attacks and a stroke. Even in the last couple of years of his life he fought cellulitis in his left leg that was difficult to heal because of the lack of circulation. His left foot stayed swollen and sore most of the time.
Although dad suffered the rest of his life due to the impact of that day, so did the rest of the family. I remember many calls where Mom got up in the middle of the night to run to the hospital because Dad had fallen into a critical state again. Some of those nights, we had to go along because Mom was afraid she might not be back for a while.
We practically grew up in hospital waiting rooms, eating out of the vending machines and mining for lost coins underneath the machines and in the coin return slots was what we did for fun! We slept many nights on the vinyl and metal chairs in the waiting room at Indian Path Hospital and then went to school the next morning. I was often tardy or even absent from school altogether, putting me behind on my schoolwork a lot of the time. I missed 19 days of school that year.
All of those things are part of who I am today. With regular hospital stays, visits to Duke for specialized treatment and Mom having to tend to Dad when he was home in between events, we all learned very quickly that it wasn't about us. We learned to do for ourselves and to depend on each other. We managed our own homework, and all of us actually got good grades despite the rollercoaster we were on most days. We learned to cook our own meals too. We learned humility as we punched our free lunch card in the school cafeteria line due to Dad no longer being able to work. We learned to do without a lot during those days. Expensive name brands and having the latest/greatest still doesn't impress me to this day!
We definitely had more stress than children should have to go through, but that fateful day changed a lot of things for the good for us as well. What a lot of people didn't know at the time was, when my dad wrecked, he and Mom were in the process of a divorce. Dad had moved out, and the paperwork to finalize things would have come up in only a few days. This is where I can't help but think of the phrase I have so often heard: "But God."
Even through all the hard times, God was giving us the blessing of a simple life. As we all became comfortable with our new normal, we had many blessings that most kids will never experience. My dad was home when we got off the school bus in the afternoons. When he was able to cook, he cooked a southern feast of soup beans, cornbread, fried potatoes and homemade pineapple upside-down cake for dessert! We sat outside, swinging in the porch swing in the evenings. A few times when Mom was at the beauty shop, he played Atari with us, scrambling to get up and move before Mom caught him when she pulled into the garage! He sang with us songs I will never, ever forget. Froggy Went A-Courtin' and Let Us Have a Little Talk with Jesus were a couple of his favorites. We watched Little House on the Prairie, The Waltons, The Jeffersons and Gunsmoke while Dad popped popcorn in the fireplace. We had homemade Easter baskets every year, and stockings filled with candy and fruit. We always had a watermelon, Dad's favorite, on the 4th of July. We were never short on laughter when Dad was around with his quick wit and sense of humor.
As tragic as my dad's wreck was, that day had a powerful impact on our futures from then on. I often find myself thinking back to that day, wondering how different life would have been had it not happened. My parents would have likely been divorced, as young as they were would have probably remarried, and I would have had an entirely different life. One thing I know for sure: Mom and Dad deeply loved each other. As I watched my parents' dying days unravel, one thing that carried us all through was the knowledge of how deeply they loved and needed each other.
I have always been aware that I think differently than a lot of people. A big part of my mindset was shaped that day. Even as a small child, I became acutely aware of how short life is, and how fast it can change. It taught me to never take a second for granted and to always try to treat people as though it might be the last time you see them, because you never know when that person walks out the door if that will be the last time you'll see them. It made me extremely loyal to those I love, and it made me learn to put their needs before my own.
Those tough years, with Mom and Dad's marital problems before the wreck and Dad's health problems after, made me savor the "good days"-the days with no fussing and fighting and no pain and suffering- and soak them in, a feeling I still crave today. Just normal, ordinary days that are more precious than anything money can ever buy. That's all I needed then and that's all I strive for today- a simple life full of true blessings, the ones you can see so clearly when they are nearly taken away. What a wonderful thing it would be if we could understand that without the pain of the lesson first.
Article printed in the Bristol Herald Courier
Article printed in the Kingsport Times News
Some homemade cards I made for Dad
Just off the plane, returning from another procedure at Duke
Dad arriving at Tri-Cities Airport from Duke. The box attached to his belt was the control to the stimulator they implanted into his back
