My Messy Memory of June 19, 2018
One year ago today my family experienced what I can honestly say was the most traumatic experience of our lives. It is something that we have all coped with in different ways and I think it's safe to say that the images of that morning haunt some of us to this very day and will for a very long time.
For those who don't know, on June 19th, 2018 my father's heart stopped working. It started out like most mornings. My mom was getting ready for the day while my dad was sitting on their bed paying bills. What most people think is a crutch, being grown adults living at their parents house... I find it a complete blessing, for this reason and so many more. My sister, brother in law and nephew lived downstairs and thank the Lord for that as well. My mom had planned to already be out of the house, James had just gotten home from working a double shift through the night at the hospital and Andrew, like my mom was originally supposed to be out the door and on his way to work.
When my dad's heart stopped working correctly my mom screamed for help and Shanay and I both ran to their room to see what was happening. As soon as we noticed my dad laying on the bed unable to control his body, we ran to get our husbands. My mom called 911 and Markenley was told to stay downstairs with Lincoln to distract him from all the commotion going on upstairs. James and Andrew moved my dad from the bed to the floor to make doing CPR more effective. Immediately they started performing compressions on him. My mom stayed on the phone with 911 while in complete panic of what in the world was happening. My sister, who rarely cries and who I have never seen scared was feeling the same emotions we all were. They stood at the foot of the bed while I sat on the bed looking over my dads face talking to him. I remembered that whenever I was starting to pass out in the hospital, while I was coming to they would talk to me and try to get my attention. They continued this no matter how often I would come to, so I thought there must be some benefit to this. So there I was talking to my dad saying "Come on dad, you can do this" "You are doing great dad, help is on the way", while James and Andrew switched off doing CPR. Anytime he would look like he was becoming conscious, I would talk to him like normal, it was the only thing I could've possibly done in this situation. Still to this day I don't understand how I possibly remained any version of calm but I think part of it had to do with WWDD, what would dad do. In any situation ever, my dad was always calm. I only remember one or two times where he's looked completely terrified or anxious, now it's not that he hasn't felt this way it's just that he knew we needed someone to be our calm. I sat over my dad until the ambulance arrived and then left the room to give them space to do their thing.
Once the ambulance arrived we all went into the hallway and James went into the boys room and sat with Solomon because during all of this he had no clue what was going on. He was screaming prayers to the Lord saying "I can't lose another dad God, please save him!" James sat and talked to him while trying to calm him down and my mom sat with me on the floor while we watched them bring out a machine to constantly do compressions on him. I remember my mom asking one of the guys "Is he going to be okay, is he going to live?" All the man could say is "We are doing the best we can." Of course they couldn't give her a yes or no answer because they didn't know, and they did the absolute best that they could and we are so thankful for that.
They did a bunch of stuff like give him shots in his leg, shocked him a few times, and strap him to a gurney. At this point we all "got ready" to go to the hospital with him and by "get ready" I mean put on a bra and a pair of shoes. They took him to the hospital in the ambulance and James drove my mom and I close behind them. On the way there my mom and I switched roles a little bit, now I was the one breaking down and she was the one who calmly sat there praying. During that drive I called my family members to let them know what was going on. Once they heard the news, everyone was in route. Gosh I love my family. We arrived at the same time as the ambulance and waited in the unfamiliar hospital ER waiting room while one by one family and friends showed up. We had to explain over and over again what had happened and those friends and family sat there holding us while we were very quickly falling apart. After what felt like hours of sitting around, they called us to a room down the hall that was tiny and dark. As we sat in the windowless room, a nurse brought us multiple boxes of hospital grade tissues. This is where I lost all control. It definitely felt like they were setting us up for horrible news. We were horrified. Once the doctor came in we all sat in silence waiting for what we had hoped was good news. She introduced herself and then said "So he was responsive and he knows his name so that was really good!" PRAISE THE LORD. My dad was still with us. He was put into a medically induced coma to help the machines do their job and give him some rest. I don't remember much else the doctor had said because all I cared about in that moment was that my dad was still here.
As more friends and family arrived we told them the good news and I feel like I collapsed into each one of them as they gave us hugs. I felt so weak and still so terrified. They prayed with us and waited with us as we went back to see him. Seeing my dad in a hospital gown, connected to what seemed like one hundred monitors, felt so wrong. He is rarely ever sick and when he is, you can barely tell. He always seemed so healthy and upbeat, nothing could've ever lead us to believe that something like this was even a possibility. When I sat next to his bed and held his hand, I prayed that I could take this away. I said the words that he used to tell me when I was in the hospital, "I asked God to take your pain and give it to me." And I meant every single word.
This day went on for what felt like weeks. By mid day my eyes were puffy and I didn't think I was capable of crying anymore tears. Our pastor came and sat with our "support squad", family and friends and we got in a circle and we prayed together. It was a moment of raw pain and anxiety being fully given to the Lord and where we did our best to give him every ounce of doubt or worry. We all needed that, my mom most of all. Oh and those tears that I thought I couldn't possibly produce more of, yeah they came flooding out of me like I hadn't cried in years. Again, the day felt so long and since then it's become quite a blur and I think that's probably a good thing. We all sat around as people shuffled in and out and as we waited to go and see him. At around 7:30pm when I was back in his ICU room with my mom as we watched my dad, I felt what I liked to think was him squeezing my hand. It more than likely was just his reflex but I took it as God telling me that he was going to be okay and in that moment, it was everything I needed.
A few of us ended up staying through the night at the hospital and "slept" in the waiting room. I truly not sure that I slept at all really and how could I? Flashbacks were eating me up every time I tried to close my eyes. So I just laid there, praying and waiting until it was morning. I don't remember doing much else or how I even just laid there waiting but I do know that around 11pm they woke him up a little and had him wiggle his fingers and toes and all that and then for the rest of the night they kept him sedated. Once morning hit, family came back to the hospital and we waited to find out when they'd wake him again and if he would get his tubes removed. Once they woke him up, they removed his tubes. It was hard to watch as it was not at all comfortable for him. I ended up having to step out of the room which I still to do this day feel guilty about but don't worry we had many people that were able to step in and be with him and my mom.
That day went on as a blur yet again, let's be real here the whole week was a bur and not for any reason other than the fact that it was a lot to take in. During this time, they discussed the course of action which was to put in a defibrillator that will shock his heart if anything like what had happen were to happen again. The next few days they had him rest and save up as much energy as he could so that he would be as healthy as possible for the procedure.
My siblings and I went home and stayed there on Saturday. It was incredibly difficult pulling up to the house where everything had happened. I broke down as I tried to get out of the car because just days ago in that exact spot, an ambulance was parked. James helped me into the house where again I was stuck at the bottom of the stairs unable to possibly walk past my parents room. It took quite a while until I made it to my room and I was only able to because they shut my parents door. I got ready for bed and then felt the urge to push past my fear and go into my parents room. I looked at their room and saw everything that happened flashback in an instant. I saw him on the bed and then on the floor by the window, I saw James and Andrew and my mom. I saw my sister standing there and Solomon terrified. I saw me sitting over my dad unconscious. I saw the EMTs and firefighters. I saw it all in one second. I sat there in their room crying, praying and shaking. Then after a while, I saw saving and I saw Jesus. That was when I thanked the Lord for His faithfulness, wiped my tears and left their room. It was a strange brief moment but it was a moment that I guess I needed.
On Sunday the 24th, James was scheduled to play in the worship service. Not wanting him to be there to face a crowd of people on his own I planned to go with him even though I was incredibly anxious. Now let me explain, the church is filled with people who love and adore my father and we are all so thankful for that but it can be a little scary having to answer to so many people on your own about something that was still so fresh. My siblings all decided the night before that we would go to service together and that's exactly what we did. So there we were doing church taking up an entire pew worshipping our amazing and wonderful Lord. Our pastor told the congregation what had happened because it's pretty evident when worship pastor Todd Dunn isn't there and he turned to us and pointed out that there we were sitting together. I think it made my dad happy knowing that we were coming together to support one another in that way. I won't lie to you though, tears fell and the church felt incomplete without my dad there leading music and I think others may have felt that way too. After church we went back to the hospital and sat with dad as he rested up for surgery the following day.
On Monday morning we waited with my mom in the waiting room. Not going to lie to you, I wasn't used to being on the waiting side of things. I was used to being the patient and it wasn't until that day that I realized how anxious it makes you feel. Again we banned together and sat in that room as a family. My mom, sister, James and I. There was a moment of complete panic where I decided to go for a walk alone and stood in the hall near where we had left him after his surgery prep. I sat on the floor in a puddle of my own tears praying to the Lord and asking Him to place His hands on all those involved in his procedure. After what felt like hours, he was out and awake. Everything went perfectly.
Once surgery was done, they continued to monitor him and helped him build up his strength so he could go home the next day. He rested, ate, shaved, brushed his teeth and walked laps. It started to feel like I was finally getting my dad back and just like planned, he got to go home on June 26th at around 6pm. He had a long road to recovery ahead of him but everything was looking up from here. The house felt like a home because dad and mom were finally back. We all chipped in taking care of both of them and of course each other. There wasn't anything we wouldn't do for one another, not after everything that had happened. Things were different now, WE were different now.
I wish y'all could fully understand the greatness of our Lord, I wish I myself could fully understand His greatness. Everything that happened was not in my dad's favor. They say he died FOUR times and thanks to the help he was given, he lived through that. It's hard to wrap my head around that because it sounds like out of movie and honestly I wouldn't be surprised if in a few years you saw a Christian movie based off his story. Now I can't say I understand why this all happened but one thing I thought was really cool about it was that my family has never been closer. Day after day we sat in the waiting room together. Whether it was crying on each others shoulders, praying together, getting coffee for one another or playing games together, the most incredible thing was that we did this all TOGETHER. Trust me I wish the circumstances weren't so painful and intense but that's one thing I will remember that was so dang good about the whole thing, obviously aside from God's healing and His faithfulness.
A year later my dad is healthy and although things may not really be back to normal, they sure do seem like it. He took a break from work that in a reality was needed even before the incident. His health became a bigger priority to all of us. Life has felt much more precious and I am thankful for that. Taking days for granted is a thing of the past for a lot of us now. We all witnessed the most amazing guy rebuild himself in the most patient and grace filled way. I've always looked up to my dad, when times were tough he was the first example of trusting IN the Lord and getting strength FROM the Lord. After everything, that still remains to be the motto.
Not going to lie to y'all, those flashbacks I had before still haunt me. Anytime I hear someone make any sound that's even close to a scream or a loud bang, anxiety fills me and I have to make sure everyone is okay. If I hear sirens nearby, the flashbacks hit me hard and right in the gut. I could be out and about and sirens could appear in the distance and fear threatens to swallow me like a wave. PTSD is a real thing. It's something I face from not only this incident but others that have happened in the past. For the most part I face it in private and keep it between me and the Lord. It just seems easier that way. Not many understand and this incident wasn't about me so it makes it harder for people on the outside to get what I mean. I know my mom must have her worries, I mean why wouldn't she. She loves her husband with her whole heart and although it feels like a little much to have her call me and tell me to check on my dad when he's sleeping or just working, I don't mind assuring her that he's okay because I too feel the need to check in on him even when not being asked to. I don't take him still being here for granted and I never will. I'm so thankful for my dad and all that he's done for our family. He truly is the best and I am so happy that my little baby will get to have the best grampy to look up to, sing with, and learn corny jokes from.
Dad, you are undoubtedly strong and your perseverance through all of this has been something I know that inspires others along with inspiring me. I am so blessed to have you as my father and I can't thank you enough for being a constant stronghold for me through all the ups and downs I have forced upon you. Seeing you come out of all of this even stronger is truly incredible. Thank you for your daily reminders of God's love and protection. You are one of a kind and I hope you know that! I love you lots.
For those who don't know, on June 19th, 2018 my father's heart stopped working. It started out like most mornings. My mom was getting ready for the day while my dad was sitting on their bed paying bills. What most people think is a crutch, being grown adults living at their parents house... I find it a complete blessing, for this reason and so many more. My sister, brother in law and nephew lived downstairs and thank the Lord for that as well. My mom had planned to already be out of the house, James had just gotten home from working a double shift through the night at the hospital and Andrew, like my mom was originally supposed to be out the door and on his way to work.
When my dad's heart stopped working correctly my mom screamed for help and Shanay and I both ran to their room to see what was happening. As soon as we noticed my dad laying on the bed unable to control his body, we ran to get our husbands. My mom called 911 and Markenley was told to stay downstairs with Lincoln to distract him from all the commotion going on upstairs. James and Andrew moved my dad from the bed to the floor to make doing CPR more effective. Immediately they started performing compressions on him. My mom stayed on the phone with 911 while in complete panic of what in the world was happening. My sister, who rarely cries and who I have never seen scared was feeling the same emotions we all were. They stood at the foot of the bed while I sat on the bed looking over my dads face talking to him. I remembered that whenever I was starting to pass out in the hospital, while I was coming to they would talk to me and try to get my attention. They continued this no matter how often I would come to, so I thought there must be some benefit to this. So there I was talking to my dad saying "Come on dad, you can do this" "You are doing great dad, help is on the way", while James and Andrew switched off doing CPR. Anytime he would look like he was becoming conscious, I would talk to him like normal, it was the only thing I could've possibly done in this situation. Still to this day I don't understand how I possibly remained any version of calm but I think part of it had to do with WWDD, what would dad do. In any situation ever, my dad was always calm. I only remember one or two times where he's looked completely terrified or anxious, now it's not that he hasn't felt this way it's just that he knew we needed someone to be our calm. I sat over my dad until the ambulance arrived and then left the room to give them space to do their thing.
Once the ambulance arrived we all went into the hallway and James went into the boys room and sat with Solomon because during all of this he had no clue what was going on. He was screaming prayers to the Lord saying "I can't lose another dad God, please save him!" James sat and talked to him while trying to calm him down and my mom sat with me on the floor while we watched them bring out a machine to constantly do compressions on him. I remember my mom asking one of the guys "Is he going to be okay, is he going to live?" All the man could say is "We are doing the best we can." Of course they couldn't give her a yes or no answer because they didn't know, and they did the absolute best that they could and we are so thankful for that.
They did a bunch of stuff like give him shots in his leg, shocked him a few times, and strap him to a gurney. At this point we all "got ready" to go to the hospital with him and by "get ready" I mean put on a bra and a pair of shoes. They took him to the hospital in the ambulance and James drove my mom and I close behind them. On the way there my mom and I switched roles a little bit, now I was the one breaking down and she was the one who calmly sat there praying. During that drive I called my family members to let them know what was going on. Once they heard the news, everyone was in route. Gosh I love my family. We arrived at the same time as the ambulance and waited in the unfamiliar hospital ER waiting room while one by one family and friends showed up. We had to explain over and over again what had happened and those friends and family sat there holding us while we were very quickly falling apart. After what felt like hours of sitting around, they called us to a room down the hall that was tiny and dark. As we sat in the windowless room, a nurse brought us multiple boxes of hospital grade tissues. This is where I lost all control. It definitely felt like they were setting us up for horrible news. We were horrified. Once the doctor came in we all sat in silence waiting for what we had hoped was good news. She introduced herself and then said "So he was responsive and he knows his name so that was really good!" PRAISE THE LORD. My dad was still with us. He was put into a medically induced coma to help the machines do their job and give him some rest. I don't remember much else the doctor had said because all I cared about in that moment was that my dad was still here.
As more friends and family arrived we told them the good news and I feel like I collapsed into each one of them as they gave us hugs. I felt so weak and still so terrified. They prayed with us and waited with us as we went back to see him. Seeing my dad in a hospital gown, connected to what seemed like one hundred monitors, felt so wrong. He is rarely ever sick and when he is, you can barely tell. He always seemed so healthy and upbeat, nothing could've ever lead us to believe that something like this was even a possibility. When I sat next to his bed and held his hand, I prayed that I could take this away. I said the words that he used to tell me when I was in the hospital, "I asked God to take your pain and give it to me." And I meant every single word.
This day went on for what felt like weeks. By mid day my eyes were puffy and I didn't think I was capable of crying anymore tears. Our pastor came and sat with our "support squad", family and friends and we got in a circle and we prayed together. It was a moment of raw pain and anxiety being fully given to the Lord and where we did our best to give him every ounce of doubt or worry. We all needed that, my mom most of all. Oh and those tears that I thought I couldn't possibly produce more of, yeah they came flooding out of me like I hadn't cried in years. Again, the day felt so long and since then it's become quite a blur and I think that's probably a good thing. We all sat around as people shuffled in and out and as we waited to go and see him. At around 7:30pm when I was back in his ICU room with my mom as we watched my dad, I felt what I liked to think was him squeezing my hand. It more than likely was just his reflex but I took it as God telling me that he was going to be okay and in that moment, it was everything I needed.
A few of us ended up staying through the night at the hospital and "slept" in the waiting room. I truly not sure that I slept at all really and how could I? Flashbacks were eating me up every time I tried to close my eyes. So I just laid there, praying and waiting until it was morning. I don't remember doing much else or how I even just laid there waiting but I do know that around 11pm they woke him up a little and had him wiggle his fingers and toes and all that and then for the rest of the night they kept him sedated. Once morning hit, family came back to the hospital and we waited to find out when they'd wake him again and if he would get his tubes removed. Once they woke him up, they removed his tubes. It was hard to watch as it was not at all comfortable for him. I ended up having to step out of the room which I still to do this day feel guilty about but don't worry we had many people that were able to step in and be with him and my mom.
That day went on as a blur yet again, let's be real here the whole week was a bur and not for any reason other than the fact that it was a lot to take in. During this time, they discussed the course of action which was to put in a defibrillator that will shock his heart if anything like what had happen were to happen again. The next few days they had him rest and save up as much energy as he could so that he would be as healthy as possible for the procedure.
My siblings and I went home and stayed there on Saturday. It was incredibly difficult pulling up to the house where everything had happened. I broke down as I tried to get out of the car because just days ago in that exact spot, an ambulance was parked. James helped me into the house where again I was stuck at the bottom of the stairs unable to possibly walk past my parents room. It took quite a while until I made it to my room and I was only able to because they shut my parents door. I got ready for bed and then felt the urge to push past my fear and go into my parents room. I looked at their room and saw everything that happened flashback in an instant. I saw him on the bed and then on the floor by the window, I saw James and Andrew and my mom. I saw my sister standing there and Solomon terrified. I saw me sitting over my dad unconscious. I saw the EMTs and firefighters. I saw it all in one second. I sat there in their room crying, praying and shaking. Then after a while, I saw saving and I saw Jesus. That was when I thanked the Lord for His faithfulness, wiped my tears and left their room. It was a strange brief moment but it was a moment that I guess I needed.
On Sunday the 24th, James was scheduled to play in the worship service. Not wanting him to be there to face a crowd of people on his own I planned to go with him even though I was incredibly anxious. Now let me explain, the church is filled with people who love and adore my father and we are all so thankful for that but it can be a little scary having to answer to so many people on your own about something that was still so fresh. My siblings all decided the night before that we would go to service together and that's exactly what we did. So there we were doing church taking up an entire pew worshipping our amazing and wonderful Lord. Our pastor told the congregation what had happened because it's pretty evident when worship pastor Todd Dunn isn't there and he turned to us and pointed out that there we were sitting together. I think it made my dad happy knowing that we were coming together to support one another in that way. I won't lie to you though, tears fell and the church felt incomplete without my dad there leading music and I think others may have felt that way too. After church we went back to the hospital and sat with dad as he rested up for surgery the following day.
On Monday morning we waited with my mom in the waiting room. Not going to lie to you, I wasn't used to being on the waiting side of things. I was used to being the patient and it wasn't until that day that I realized how anxious it makes you feel. Again we banned together and sat in that room as a family. My mom, sister, James and I. There was a moment of complete panic where I decided to go for a walk alone and stood in the hall near where we had left him after his surgery prep. I sat on the floor in a puddle of my own tears praying to the Lord and asking Him to place His hands on all those involved in his procedure. After what felt like hours, he was out and awake. Everything went perfectly.
Once surgery was done, they continued to monitor him and helped him build up his strength so he could go home the next day. He rested, ate, shaved, brushed his teeth and walked laps. It started to feel like I was finally getting my dad back and just like planned, he got to go home on June 26th at around 6pm. He had a long road to recovery ahead of him but everything was looking up from here. The house felt like a home because dad and mom were finally back. We all chipped in taking care of both of them and of course each other. There wasn't anything we wouldn't do for one another, not after everything that had happened. Things were different now, WE were different now.
I wish y'all could fully understand the greatness of our Lord, I wish I myself could fully understand His greatness. Everything that happened was not in my dad's favor. They say he died FOUR times and thanks to the help he was given, he lived through that. It's hard to wrap my head around that because it sounds like out of movie and honestly I wouldn't be surprised if in a few years you saw a Christian movie based off his story. Now I can't say I understand why this all happened but one thing I thought was really cool about it was that my family has never been closer. Day after day we sat in the waiting room together. Whether it was crying on each others shoulders, praying together, getting coffee for one another or playing games together, the most incredible thing was that we did this all TOGETHER. Trust me I wish the circumstances weren't so painful and intense but that's one thing I will remember that was so dang good about the whole thing, obviously aside from God's healing and His faithfulness.
A year later my dad is healthy and although things may not really be back to normal, they sure do seem like it. He took a break from work that in a reality was needed even before the incident. His health became a bigger priority to all of us. Life has felt much more precious and I am thankful for that. Taking days for granted is a thing of the past for a lot of us now. We all witnessed the most amazing guy rebuild himself in the most patient and grace filled way. I've always looked up to my dad, when times were tough he was the first example of trusting IN the Lord and getting strength FROM the Lord. After everything, that still remains to be the motto.
Not going to lie to y'all, those flashbacks I had before still haunt me. Anytime I hear someone make any sound that's even close to a scream or a loud bang, anxiety fills me and I have to make sure everyone is okay. If I hear sirens nearby, the flashbacks hit me hard and right in the gut. I could be out and about and sirens could appear in the distance and fear threatens to swallow me like a wave. PTSD is a real thing. It's something I face from not only this incident but others that have happened in the past. For the most part I face it in private and keep it between me and the Lord. It just seems easier that way. Not many understand and this incident wasn't about me so it makes it harder for people on the outside to get what I mean. I know my mom must have her worries, I mean why wouldn't she. She loves her husband with her whole heart and although it feels like a little much to have her call me and tell me to check on my dad when he's sleeping or just working, I don't mind assuring her that he's okay because I too feel the need to check in on him even when not being asked to. I don't take him still being here for granted and I never will. I'm so thankful for my dad and all that he's done for our family. He truly is the best and I am so happy that my little baby will get to have the best grampy to look up to, sing with, and learn corny jokes from.
Dad, you are undoubtedly strong and your perseverance through all of this has been something I know that inspires others along with inspiring me. I am so blessed to have you as my father and I can't thank you enough for being a constant stronghold for me through all the ups and downs I have forced upon you. Seeing you come out of all of this even stronger is truly incredible. Thank you for your daily reminders of God's love and protection. You are one of a kind and I hope you know that! I love you lots.
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