A Day That Will Live in Infamy

Tomorrow marks a dark day in the history of our nation. I need not go into the story of how Japan jumped our nation into World War II, as it has been taught to each of us since kindergarten. No, this day has much deeper meaning to me. This is my Pearl Harbor Day story.

I will never forget the ringing of the phone that night. I relive it everyday, answering it and hearing something so unbelievable that I still shudder when I think about it. He had always been a strong, quiet, calm man. With the exception of the occasional stern calling of my name when I was a rebel without a clue in my teenage years, his voice had remained steady since mom married him in 1986. Since that day he had been my mentor, and a tremendous role model. He was larger than life until that moment. Until I heard him say, with his voice cracking, that she was sick. Not just sick. Cancer. Stage 3 Gastric Cancer. She is in the hospital now. The words cut through me like the sharp edge of a sword and I fell to my knees. After the brief call, Angel, Bethany, and Rick came to my side. I picked the phone up and called my sister, who lived a mile from them, 7 hours from me. My Dad had told me I didn't need to come, trying to maintain his even hand and not cause alarm. I needed to ask her what she would do if she were me. Her answer? I would be on the road now. So that's what I did. I got in my truck and began the journey. Little did I know it was the first few moments of a month long blur that would leave my life in a state of complete disarray.

It was 29 days more before I said my last goodbye to my mother. 29 days later I would collapse, and I do not know if I have gotten up even still today. I am sure in the next 29 days I will remember my mom on the pages of this blog. And I am sure I will do so with the same tear filled eyes I have at this moment, the same ones I had two years ago tomorrow, December 7, 2008 when that phone rang. A day that will, in my heart, live in infamy forever.

Good Night All


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