The Late Hospital Drive – A Guest Post
A Guest Post by Abigail (my 11 year old daughter)
Dreaming of a land full of tulips, roses, honeysuckles, and marigolds, I was shaken awake by a cold hand touching my blanket-wrapped shoulders. I could feel the freeze through the covers. My eyes suddenly opened wide and full of fear that a robber had broken in and was about to kidnap me. I was terrified. But, as my eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, I could see the worried face of my mother.
“Come, on Abby! We need to go! Get your boots and sweater on. We’re driving dad to the hospital,” she frantically said. I was 7 or 8 at the time and my fear of being kidnapped was replaced by the fear of what I didn’t know was happening to my dad. My mom swiftly jogged out of my room after awakening my sister, who looked just as terrified as me.
I pounced out of my bed and almost ripped my jacket while pulling it off the hook. I frantically pulled on my oversized leather boots over my baggy jammie pants and ran out of my bedroom door with my sister on my heels.
“It’s okay. Daddy’s okay,” my dad was breathing really hard and it sounded as if he might die. He was sweating very much and had already soaked his t-shirt. My sister and I worriedly looked at each other with the same expressions. Terrified. My dad kept saying that the whole way to the hospital. None of us knew what was happening with my dad and we were all very worried. When my mom screeched the car into an emergency parking spot, my grandpa was there already to meet us. I hopped out of the car and ran to him, hugged him, he carried me all the way into the main building of the hospital. My mom checked my father into the the hospital room and sent my Boppa to take us home. The last I saw my dad he was holding his stomach and was very pale as he walked slowly into the emergency room with my mom.
In my grandpa’s big navy blue truck, he was trying to make us feel better by telling us his famous jokes. Almost all of them worked and took my mind off of what was happening, but I could see that my sister wasn’t listening.
“Do you guys want a doughnut and some hot chocolate? You guys look mighty tired and I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee myself.” I laughed as my grandpa pulled into a gas station parking spot. I quickly unbuckled and got out of my door. Through the window, I saw my sister slowly unbuckle, staring out into space. I was very easy to bribe, she wasn’t. My face looked at the busy highway with blinding lights shining everywhere. The tree’s leaves rustled and a cold wind blew over my frozen face. I shivered. It felt like a cold icicle was slowly being wiped across my face. I looked away from the highway and the cold chill and instead looked at the bright lights of the Shell gas station.
My grandpa carried me in one arm and Ellie in the other arm. I leaned a bit out of his arms as I opened the door for him, big enough for all of us to fit in. When we walked in, a grandpa and two little girls, the workers were very surprised that we were up this late but they didn’t mind after my grandpa ordered us some warm cinnamon rolls and two cups of very hot chocolate. Once we had thanked Boppa and the gas station workers, we walked out of the door, burning our tongues as we sipped the creamy chocolate from the warm white paper cups. We hopped back into the truck as we were now wide awake and our minds completely off of our dad and instead on our wonderful warm treats.
After we pulled into our driveway, my grandpa unlocked the door to our house and let us go inside while saying, “Ladies first,” and showing his arm through the door to guide us in. Me and my sister went straight to the wooden kitchen table and placed our remaining treats on it and slowly, and tiredly again, climbed onto the chairs. We finished eating our cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate and then Boppa helped us get our teeth brushed and beds ready. We picked our goodnight books and he read them to us, very tired himself, while Ellie fell asleep during the stories.
I was the last to fall asleep that night. I had a huge sugar rush running through my body. I was very grateful that my mom didn’t wake me up until noon the next day and that my dad was fine by the time he got home.
[This is Day 13 of the Write 31 Days Challenge. This year my focus is on the role of STORY in our lives. Click here to get to the landing page with links to each post for this series.]
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What about you?
Do you have a memory of being woken up in the middle of the night? Have you ever feared for the life of your parent?
Please share your story in the comment section below.
- No Wonder She is Called Great
- Mile Monday
- Rising in the Night: Doing Our Part Despite the Surrounding Darkness