It was a Father’s Day we’ll always remember, even though it was one we’d rather forget.
After a pleasant morning spent browsing at the Old Town Art Fair and a fun afternoon playing with umbrellas in the rain, we settled in for our usual evening routine of dinner and bathtime. Before the special Father’s Day dessert, I asked Evie and Mack to head upstairs for showers so I could tidy up the kitchen.
Five minutes later, I heard a thud followed by screams.
I raced upstairs to find blood everywhere. Mack was running wild with blood all over his face. He had fallen in the shower and gashed the bridge of his nose. He was shrieking and Evie was shaking. For a split second, I didn’t know what to do.
I grabbed a towel and pressed it to his nose. I yelled for Chris who was hard at work teaching an on-line class. I called my parents because I knew someone would have to watch the girls while I brought Mack to the ER. I packed a bag with diapers for Ben and a clean shirt for Mack.
At lightening speed, my dad arrived. Without any reaction to the gaping hole on his grandson’s face, he calmly packed us into his car and drove us straight to Lurie Children’s Hospital. He dropped us off and headed back to my house to keep an eye on Evie and Vivian.
Three hours and six stitches later, my Dad arrived to pick us up. I could have very easily taken a cab home, but like any good dad and grandfather, my dad wouldn’t hear of it. It was late on a Sunday night, and my dad was there.
Whenever I’m faced with an unexpected and stressful situation, I always try to find the lesson buried within. Last night was no exception. On Father’s Day, my own father came to my family’s rescue. On Father’s Day, Chris was working hard late into the night to provide for the family he so loves (while cleaning pools of blood off the floors). On Father’s Day, Mack was witnessing these two fathers being excellent fathers.
On Father’s Day, the fathers in my life were being…fathers.
And on Father’s Day, I felt like the luckiest daughter and wife in the world.
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