6/29/10
It is times like this that the good Lord reaches down and either grabs you by the scruff of your neck or firmly holds you in his arms. As they just took him down for surgery- the jury is still out! Sunday my husband and I spent the day on the river canoeing. Midway through our 10 mile run down the Broad River- he had a heart attack. With no cell service for the better part of those remaining miles, we could not reach 911 to notify them. With crushing chest pain and loss of breath- he did his best to remain conscious and alert while I was forced to frantically paddle the remaining miles to an awaiting ambulance 4 ½ miles downstream. For the last two days he has told everyone that I paddled like a mad woman- that I saved his life- that I am his hero.
As I sit in the CICU family waiting area, I must confess to you that he is wrong. Yes, I did paddle the last few miles to get him to safety- yes my whistle alerted the paramedics to where we were when they were about to leave thinking the call was a hoax, and yes… I guess you could say that I saved his life. But in a broader sense- he saved mine. Almost 30 years ago he took a precocious 24 year old and brought her safely through motherhood and menopause- taught her grace under fire and the truest meanings of loyalty and love.
I would like to thank him for his patience- his trust- his unfailing love and his warped sense of humor. I would also like to thank him for his forgiveness, for his faith in my abilities and for his unfaltering belief that we were always meant to be together.
One day I hope to prove myself worry of such dedication.
For Don…
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