An Unthankful Gift

It all unraveled the Sunday after Thanksgiving

The feast had been digested; the cliché family pictures captured

Everything was “right” in the Kingsley household,

Or at least I thought it was.

My frantic mother appeared in my doorway.

“I think I need to call 911. Go look at your Dad.”

Is this a joke? She had to be exaggerating.

Ten nerve-racking steps brought me to one hell of a reality.

Every inch of his skin covered in a thick blanket of sweat.

His bulging blue eyes alert, yet unresponsive.

Gasping for any ounce of oxygen his lungs could absorb.

A blubbering humming noise escaping from his lips.

Why was this happening?

Are we going to be planning a funeral tomorrow?

Nervous laughter poured out of my mouth like lava,

Then abruptly changed to hysterical tears.

Red and blue flashes of light radiated through the opened kitchen window.

Multiple strangers put my father’s limp body onto a stretcher.

God, please just make him better.

When we arrived at the hospital, the doctor moved towards us.

I only heard bits of pieces of what the tall worn man had to say.

“Seven percent chance of survival…”

“A human being can’t be much more ill than this.”

“Brain aneurysm.”

At that moment, I knew life would never be the same.

Months would be spent sitting anxiously in waiting rooms.

A miracle would be given to my family.

The aneurysm didn’t murder my father,

But it killed everything he loved except his family.