{"id":102909,"date":"2021-06-27T08:23:11","date_gmt":"2021-06-27T12:23:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=102909"},"modified":"2021-06-27T08:23:11","modified_gmt":"2021-06-27T12:23:11","slug":"hour-16-my-dad-called","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2021\/06\/hour-16-my-dad-called\/","title":{"rendered":"Hour 16 – My Dad Called"},"content":{"rendered":"

On a Sunday afternoon, my dad called.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

This was unusual, since, well,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

We don\u2019t call each other. So<\/span><\/p>\n

I knew that meant that<\/span><\/p>\n

Something was very wrong.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I hadn\u2019t even answered yet,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Heart in my throat, racing,<\/span><\/p>\n

But I knew it was my mother.<\/span><\/p>\n

Otherwise, it would be her<\/span><\/p>\n

Name on the caller ID.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span>She\u2019s having chest pains,<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

She can\u2019t breathe. Just\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Come to the hospital.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I wish I still had no idea\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

What a pulmonary embolism was.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I sat at her bedside all night, the\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Doctors said they hope she\u2019ll<\/span><\/p>\n

Wake up by morning. I don\u2019t\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Want to think about what I\u2019ll\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Do if she doesn\u2019t.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The beeping of the machines<\/span><\/p>\n

Has never quite gotten out of\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

My head, even five years later,<\/span><\/p>\n

Even with her completely fine.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

To stand on the precipice like<\/span><\/p>\n

That with the one person who\u2019s been\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

There since day one is a different\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Kind of terror. And two years later,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

When my aunt died in that same<\/span><\/p>\n

ICU room, I couldn\u2019t help but\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Thank God for the first time in\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

My life, and believe in miracles.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

On a Sunday afternoon, my dad called.\u00a0 This was unusual, since, well,\u00a0 We don\u2019t call each other. So I knew that meant that Something was very wrong.\u00a0   I hadn\u2019t even answered yet,\u00a0 Heart in my throat, racing, But I knew it was my mother….<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3586,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-102909","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/102909","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3586"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=102909"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/102909\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":102912,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/102909\/revisions\/102912"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=102909"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=102909"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=102909"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}