Everybody worries about the call…
Take for example last December… I had a missed call from one of my grammar school friends, on Christmas Eve morning, and then a text that said “call me”; well, this can’t be good. I’ve known him my whole life. Even though we don’t talk that often, whenever we do talk, we pick up like we’ve been talking every day since 1st grade; I have a couple friends like that. But, there was no reason for him to be calling me right now, and to follow up with a text; I called him back. He knew that I knew that this was not a “hey what’s up” call. Our friend was found dead in his car outside his job… He was 40 something with 2 daughters. We had known him almost as long as we had known each other. Merry F-ing Christmas…
Or how about the multiples calls I have received over the past year or so from my parents. Now, we talk pretty regularly, but I could hear it in my Mom’s voice; another one of our relatives had passed away. First it was my godfather/uncle who was married to my Mom’s sister, then it was my Mom’s cousin… not many of them left, then it was my Mom’s cousin’s husband. It was the not so great trifecta that had hit the family over the past year plus. I guess this is a part of it though… getting older. I don’t like this part.
Well, on Saturday morning, April 6th, 2024, I received another call. It was a normal Saturday morning up until that point. I was up early with my son, hanging out in the basement; we were having his birthday party later in the day. We had just moved upstairs to have some breakfast. He was on my phone, checking his fantasy baseball lineup, when he said gram and gramp were calling. I took the phone from him; I didn’t think anything at that very moment. Maybe they were calling to ask a question about the party? Maybe they were calling to tell us they’d be late? Maybe they were calling to wish my son a Happy Birthday Party Day? I wish THEY were calling about anything other than what I heard on the other end of the phone. It wasn’t THEM… it was my Dad… he was crying; he told me he needed me and to come over. I said OK, and hung up. I didn’t ask why… I knew it wasn’t good. I had hoped it wasn’t what I thought it was…
I scrambled up from the table, leaving a one-bite eaten bowl of cereal, and told my son and wife I’d be back; she asked what was going on… I told her nothing good. It took me about 20 minutes or so to get over there; I was yelling at every single slow driver on the way, and bitching about all the bike lanes they’re putting across Chicago to mess up the flow of traffic. I walked in the door, and there was my Dad… hugging my Mom on the couch. She didn’t wake up this morning… bam.
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