Watching Airplanes and complainin'

.

I thought we were going to see the boat.

Mom and I talked on the phone.

"We're so proud." she'd said.

But we didn't.


Now you are sleeping.

I don't dare wake you up.

So peaceful.


I'm leaving you this note instead.
Dear Dad...







Love,

Anne


My dad opened his eyes this morning. My mom was there.

He's alive.

His room is very nice.

All kinds of high tech designed to make a person well.

The ICU folks are nice.

I was so worried that I'd get on their nerves.

All those tubes have names and the mean something.

All those somethings keep my dad alive so I listen.

There are things that I know and things I don't.

You can see them adjusting the words for understanding.

48 hours he might die.
24 hours we're optimistic
12 hours his eyes open

This is alot to process.

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