Survivors MAG

April 23, 2009
By Ashley Keane BRONZE, Wyckoff, New Jersey
Ashley Keane BRONZE, Wyckoff, New Jersey
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

June 31, 2007, started out like a normal summer night. I hung out with friends, my dad picked me up, I stayed up late watching TV and reading a book, and finally I went to bed. All seemed fine and I was content.

Then at 2 a.m. I was suddenly woken by the phone. Even though I checked the caller ID and saw that it was Valley Hospital, I felt no panic. I rationalized that it must be a nurse calling to confirm my father’s cardiology appointment. So, when I answered and was greeted by my mother, I became a bit confused, to say the least.

“Mom? Why are you calling from the hospital? What happened? Are you okay?” I asked.

“Ashley … your father’s with the doctors. He’s had another heart attack. I don’t know when I’ll be home … sometime later this morning.” Although my mother sounded as if she’d been to hell and back, she was all business. After an awkward moment, we said good-bye halfheartedly.

After I put the phone down, anger like bars of searing iron seemed to embed itself in my chest, replaced moments later with an arctic chill bleeding through me. My father had almost died, and I had been reading a book. I had been told the danger was over, that his heart was healing after multiple stents had been inserted, but apparently, it wasn’t over. I wanted to cry and vomit but I didn’t dare do either. Instead I walked to the living room, sat on the couch, and thought.

Mostly I thought about my past with my father. It was 1996 when he had the first heart attack, and life hadn’t been the same since. My “daddy” had been taken away and a new, more intimidating and angry man came home from the hospital.

Then I thought of the recent past. How we got into petty arguments almost daily. How I had told him I loved him when I was thinking I didn’t at all. How I aggravated him because I refused to let him intimidate me into being obedient (as he had when I was a kid).

Although our relationship had been improving lately, I still hadn’t forgiven him for how he treated me or my mother when I was growing up. My mother always told me to let go of it because she had. But I couldn’t, and in that moment, I regretted that. All I could think about was that my father could die without really knowing his daughter and I would never know the man my father truly was.

The next day is still a blur. I remember walking through the hospital lobby that looked more like a hotel (except for all the sick people in wheelchairs), thinking about the words my mother had said to me when I was 15. She told me that God does these things to us because he knows how strong we are, because we are the ones who can handle it. She said that God knew the weak wouldn’t be able to handle these hardships and that is why he sent them to us, because we’re survivors.

“That is why we cannot cry,” she said gently but firmly, as if teaching a child an important rule. “We need to be strong for those we love.”

Although I tried to compose myself in that blank, white hallway, nothing could have prepared me for the sight when I walked into my father’s room. My strong, healthy father had been reduced to a haggard old man in just hours. His face looked ashen and aged, with every wrinkle and blemish accentuated by the fluorescent light. His salt and pepper hair seemed brittle and thin. Tubes and wires ran in and out of him in every direction. I didn’t know if I could handle seeing this, but I knew I had to.

I still remember the blood stain on his sheets from when his catheter tube was taken out. The dark crimson seemed to be screaming at me in that white, sterile environment. The horror of seeing my father’s blood spilled and not being able to prevent it … I’ll never forget that. The worst part was pretending it wasn’t there. Pretending that everything was okay, that I didn’t sob when I was alone begging for this to be some kind of sick dream and for forgiveness, and begging that I wasn’t really sitting in the Critical Care Unit of Valley Hospital with my father looking as if he’d stared death in the face and barely managed to come back alive. The entire scene disgusted me in a way that still haunts me in an occasional nightmare.

At first, my father and I didn’t look at each other. Whether we were both pretending like we usually did or were afraid of the emotion we might see in each other’s eyes, I’m not sure. But when my father’s tired, brown eyes finally locked with mine, a lazy grin spread across his face, and I knew my world had changed again. I knew I had forgiven him. Life was too short and too fragile for me to stain it with my stubborn refusal to forgive him. Finally I understood my mother’s words and I became what she told me we were: a survivor.



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This article has 91 comments.


vevo992 BRONZE said...
on Jan. 31 2014 at 2:30 pm
vevo992 BRONZE, Chesterfield, New Jersey
1 article 0 photos 4 comments
This kind of writing can really move someone.  Really great job and a really good message too.

on Sep. 6 2012 at 8:15 pm
GuardianoftheStars GOLD, Shongaloo, Louisiana
17 articles 0 photos 495 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Let's tell young people the best books are yet to be written; the best painting, the best government, the best of everything is yet to be done by them."
-John Erslcine

You wrote this very well. I've been a lot of simular situations and you captured the fear and the urge to remain strong very well. I hope your dad gets better.

on Mar. 14 2012 at 8:36 am
DarkIsThyThought BRONZE, Shishpipkabibble, Pennsylvania
1 article 0 photos 57 comments

Favorite Quote:
I think I know enough of hate- to say that for destruction ice- is also great- and would suffice.

Is this a true story? I can't relate, but I highly admire people who don't let things physically get to them. Awesome!

on Jan. 30 2012 at 6:17 pm
HinataHyuga SILVER, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
5 articles 0 photos 63 comments

Favorite Quote:
To never give up is my nindo, my ninja way. I can't run before taking my first step. A place to return to is were someone always thinks of you. Naruto-kun. Miso ramen. Back off kushina tomato Minato is mine! Kingmortha is my BFFFFF on teenink!

I thought it was beautiful too! Never thought I'd find an article that realates to me!

on Jan. 30 2012 at 6:13 pm
HinataHyuga SILVER, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
5 articles 0 photos 63 comments

Favorite Quote:
To never give up is my nindo, my ninja way. I can't run before taking my first step. A place to return to is were someone always thinks of you. Naruto-kun. Miso ramen. Back off kushina tomato Minato is mine! Kingmortha is my BFFFFF on teenink!

I Thought article was so good. I forgot I was staring directly at the screen I cant see straight to type.So cool!

on Jan. 30 2012 at 10:48 am
thebrighterparts BRONZE, Newton, Massachusetts
3 articles 0 photos 7 comments
I never was in this situation, but as a writer, I always imagine. Your writing is beautiful, and you are so strong.

ashley0118 said...
on Jan. 30 2012 at 9:45 am
that was really emotional and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it but I am very sorry about what happened to your dad.

Ella1 GOLD said...
on Jan. 8 2012 at 7:51 pm
Ella1 GOLD,
14 articles 7 photos 137 comments
This was amazing and so emotional. I can relate to what you went through. It really is hard not to cry but you are very strong

on Jan. 8 2012 at 3:16 pm
emmabergman GOLD, ., New Jersey
10 articles 0 photos 18 comments
Wow! This is a very touching article. I rated it 5 stars! :) Check out my work

on Jan. 8 2012 at 2:12 pm
bubblesrfun GOLD, Muskego, Wisconsin
15 articles 0 photos 19 comments

Favorite Quote:
Be your own kind of beautiful.

Amazing! I absolutely love the last paragraph. So true. Thanks for telling your story.

on Nov. 25 2011 at 7:47 pm
authorkid BRONZE, Hazel Park, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 12 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Teller of untruths, your pants have combusted!" I wish I knew the guy who came up with it. I'm borrowing it in my book. I found the saying on MLIA

oops, sorry. ignore this!

on Nov. 25 2011 at 7:46 pm
authorkid BRONZE, Hazel Park, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 12 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Teller of untruths, your pants have combusted!" I wish I knew the guy who came up with it. I'm borrowing it in my book. I found the saying on MLIA

Post something in the forums, you'll get reviewed like crazy. I've never tried it, but it seems to work with a lot of people.

 


on Nov. 25 2011 at 7:43 pm
authorkid BRONZE, Hazel Park, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 12 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Teller of untruths, your pants have combusted!" I wish I knew the guy who came up with it. I'm borrowing it in my book. I found the saying on MLIA

This was so good. I can't even tell you how good it is. And it's got excellent grammar. That's pretty awesome. It's definately sad, but it's a great story.

Fia-fia BRONZE said...
on Nov. 25 2011 at 7:11 pm
Fia-fia BRONZE, Bethesda, Maryland
4 articles 1 photo 157 comments

This is amazing, so full of emotion. I have never been in such a situation, so i can not relate, but it still moves me, and understand what boundaries were broken in the end. Thank you

:)


Hobbles SILVER said...
on Nov. 25 2011 at 2:33 pm
Hobbles SILVER, Merritt, Other
5 articles 0 photos 28 comments

Favorite Quote:
Either you love bacon or your wrong!----unknown

My brother died 2.5 yrs ago. you saying about the anger and the crying... I understand it all. I love this story, the feeling is true.  Keep writing.

on Nov. 25 2011 at 10:09 am
MarissaWhitecloud SILVER, Oskaloosa, Iowa
7 articles 0 photos 84 comments
This was a great story. Very interesting.

simpleasthat said...
on Nov. 25 2011 at 8:29 am
simpleasthat, Lovettsville, Virginia
0 articles 0 photos 13 comments

Favorite Quote:
"My life is like a carousel. Always moving forward, never going back."

wow...this was so powerful! great work!

DKid0l BRONZE said...
on Nov. 3 2011 at 6:32 pm
DKid0l BRONZE, Windsor, Michigan
2 articles 3 photos 14 comments
omg, you are right! there isn't a June 31. June ends at 30. but it was still a touching story..

on Nov. 3 2011 at 11:02 am
DarknessForever13 SILVER, Gainesville, Texas
5 articles 0 photos 51 comments

Favorite Quote:
Quoth the Raven: "Nevermore!"
"What's right isn't always popular, but what's popular isn't always right." - Unknown

6 years ago, my father died of a heart atack. This story has touched a part of my stone heart i didn't even know I had....I have a peice of writing that i'm working on posting about him. When its up, you can read it if you want...I haven't cried in years, and know I'm sitting here trying not to, it took me a minute to relized that I was actully tearing-up..thank for this, I've needed something like this for a long time...

on Oct. 12 2011 at 5:49 pm
Imperfectlife SILVER, Rochester, New York
7 articles 0 photos 74 comments
It was very deep and you have a good touch with your feelings. The story gave me a understanding of feelings. You were very honest with your feelings about your father, that was what I liked about it. I value honesty.


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