The Phone Calls

I drove into the garage, stopping only when my windshield hit the little red ball suspended from the ceiling, hanging there so I wouldn’t park too close to the end of the garage. I had a long night ahead of me, the presentation at work the next day needed much more work.

As I opened the side door into the house, I hit the button to close the garage door; the grinding gears announced my arrival home. My son walked hurriedly toward me, shadowed by the bright lights from the kitchen behind him. I greeted him with my customary “Hi Sweetie”, expecting his customary “Hi Mom” back. This evening he had no time for greetings; he said only “Your father had a heart attack.” He looked at my face, studying it for my reaction. I turned quickly towards the kitchen, looking for my husband; I needed confirmation of the news, before I would fully believe it. He was on the phone, I moved swiftly towards him, he handed me the phone and said, “It’s your mother.”

She spoke quickly, starting with her customary “Barbara, it’s me. Daddy had a heart attack this afternoon, I’m on my way to the hospital, they transferred him to Upstate. Can you call Liz, I couldn’t get a hold of her.”

“Mom, Mom, wait, how is he? Is he okay?”

“It doesn’t look good, he was putting his stupid scooter in the back of the car and he collapsed. Pam from across the street saw him and came and told me. I got a blanket for him and then called 911. I gotta go, I gotta get to the hospital”

“Should I come?”

“No, you don’t need to do that, it’s late. He’s at the University Hospital, sixth floor, area 6C. Call Liz.”

“Okay Ma, I’ll call Liz.”

I hung up the phone and stood frozen in the darkened family room. My father had been in the hospital many times before, but somehow this was different, it seemed more urgent. A few moments later, the phone rang, it was my sister Liz, she was crying.

“Barb, what happened?”

“Dad’s in the hospital, he had a heart attack.”

I told her the small amount of information I knew. Then I asked her, “Should I go to the hospital?”

She said, “I would if I lived closer.” I could tell that she regretted, at that moment anyway, that she moved so far from home. North Carolina seemed farther away from New York than usual.

It was decided; I packed up a suitcase with enough clothes for a couple of days and got ready to leave. My son asked me what his grandfather’s favorite candy was; I told him he liked Butterfingers. He disappeared into the kitchen and came back with three small Butterfingers from his Halloween candy. He asked me to give them to his grandfather. I promised him I would as I slipped them into my purse. I left for the hospital.

The First Night
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