“Thankful I Can Still Call My Dad on Father’s Day”

“Thankful I Can Still Call My Dad on Father’s Day”

 

“Some days I wish I could go back in life. Not to change things, just to feel a few things twice.”

Today, I stumbled upon a Facebook memory of a Mumford & Sons concert I went to on June 18, 2013. How odd that Facebook reminded me of this memory 4 years later on a day that is dedicated to the fathers in our lives. I remember being so excited to go to that specific concert because I had been a long-time fan of the group. However, that concert ended up becoming one of the most moving concerts I had ever been to. Here’s why.

Let’s rewind a tad further, 6 weeks before the concert, to Thursday, May 2, 2013. It started out just like any other day. I was visiting home as I had just finished my last exam at Medicine Hat College (calculus, bleh). I slept in at the house till about 10:00 a.m., went for a bike ride around the town, and then came home to start making some lunch. Mom was doing some accounting work at Hansine’s, and dad, who was a Bank Manager (now retired), was also at work. I didn’t find out till later that day that he was having a big meeting.

DAD TAKEN BY AMBULANCE

Around 11:30, I received a call from my mom saying that dad had been taken by ambulance to the hospital. Mom found out through one of dad’s coworkers – he had apparently begun to shake uncontrollably and collapsed in the middle of his big meeting. We didn’t know why or what was happening.

She came home to get me and we drove to the hospital. We quickly parked and walked into emergency where we found him with a gown in the hospital bed. He had cords coming every which way, as well as patches on his chest that were monitoring him.

The doctors came in to tell my mother and I that he had had suffered a heart attack during his meeting at work. They stated that he was in stable condition and everything was under control and going to be ok. They were going to keep him in the Drumheller hospital as they didn’t find that there was a need to transport him to Calgary. My mother and I were ok, more so just shocked.

 "Thankful I Can Still Call My Dad on Father's Day"

After sitting by his bed for about 10 minutes, my mom let go of his hand and she left the room to go and talk to the doctors to ask questions about what exactly had happened. Meanwhile, a nurse brought in some food and my dad joked about how free food was the best (such a Lacher), clearly it seemed like he was back to his old joking self. The nurse left the room and my dad and I were in the room alone. He sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. He then asked if I could cut his chicken for him. Things quickly took a turn for the worse.

HE FELL BACKWARDS

Two seconds after he handed me the cutlery, he fell backwards over the bed, arms stretched out, eyes rolled into the back of his head. I thought I had just lost my father right in front of me. That image still haunts me to this day and still makes me tear up whenever I think about it, even as I continue to type this. Alarms in the room went off and I cried and screamed for help.

A bunch of hospital staff including my mother came running in and I stood back while the whirlwind tried to get him back into stable condition. He was having a second heart attack. I felt helpless. I left the hospital room and ran outside because it was too painful seeing someone you love convulse and go through that kind of pain.

I needed to get air so I ran outside, bawling. I remember how bright the sun was that day, and how summery it felt the second I stepped outside. I sat on the warm grass and proceeded to bawl… a lot. People walked by and I tried not to draw attention. I didn’t know what was happening and I was so afraid of what seemed like was going to happen. I was afraid of the unknown. I went back in, still crying, and found my mother in the room crying while holding dad’s hand. Dad did not look well.

To this day, seeing my mother cry while holding his hand is by far one of the most painful yet touching moments I have ever seen – that memory is so crisply engrained in the back of my head. The doctors came in and told us that they were deciding to send him to the Foothills Hospital in Calgary right away via ambulance. My mother told me to go call my brother and sister to explain what was happening and to leave Edmonton and meet us in Calgary.

The doctors then warned us

The doctors then warned us that it was time for him to go. At that moment it just resonated with me that I may not see my dad again. He wasn’t doing well and who knows what could happen en route to Calgary. I gave my dad a hug, not knowing whether it’d be my last.

I tried to be strong and confident that he was going to be ok, but it was so hard to act that in front of my dad as tears continued to roll down my face. I didn’t know what to say, I just told him I loved him very much. Then I had to watch my mother go through the exact same dilemma that I had just gone through, except hers was more painful.

She was potentially saying goodbye to someone she has been with since the age of 14. She gave him a kiss and proceeded to tell him that she loved him. I ended up leaving the room again because it was hurting me so much to watch my parents go through what they were going through.

My mom came out of the room, wiping her face, and we drove home to pack our bags and head to Calgary. Thankfully I just so happened to be visiting home and was able to be there for my mom so I could drive her to the city and comfort her. For purposes of minimalizing the length of this post, everything went well in Calgary and the Foothills hospital staff was impeccable.

My dad went to surgery in order to get a stent put into his heart. In under 48 hours I had gone from hearing that my dad was going to the hospital, to being back in the comfort of our home with him as if nothing had happened. Thankful is the best word to describe it.

Some days I wish I could go back in life

Some days I wish I could go back in life. Not to change things, just to feel a few things twice. Some of you may be thinking why in the hell would he want to have that feeling again. It was because in that moment, I thought I was going to lose my father. After a while, these moments become numb again and we continue to live our lives thinking that it won’t happen again. We begin to not call as often as we should.

They aren’t on our minds as frequent as they were after a significant life event like that. After that moment, I held my parents closer. I’m not saying that I don’t hold them close still, but that feeling is nowhere near as frequent as it was that entire summer in 2013 before I moved to Halifax. That Mumford & Sons concert was powerful because a lot of their songs encompass existentialism and the after-life.

My dad had a near death experience and had almost ceased to exist physically. That entire concert, my father was on my mind, and I related every song around witnessing first hand his near death encounter.

Whenever these days come along, sure I am thankful for my parents, but I can never help but think of those who aren’t able to call their respective parent. And it tears me apart inside because I could not even fathom the idea of not having the ability to do so. I consider myself blessed countless times that I still have two loving parents who I can physically touch and hold. I have a large number of friends who have lost a parent, and I feel like I keep finding more in life as I get older.

Just last weekend during our camping trip

 "Thankful I Can Still Call My Dad on Father's Day"

Just last weekend during our camping trip, I had an unexpected heart-to-heart with a fellow MPAcc student at Candle Lake. Everyone was participating in the Beer Olympics and I had seen her sitting on the couch observing the crowd, alone.

I remember thinking how I wanted to get to know her better because she seemed like such a beautiful person. And now was my chance! I swooped in and plopped myself down right beside her.

We first talked about school

We first talked about school, work, then travel. We talked about where we had been, where we still wanted to go, specifically what we wanted to do as a post CFE (accounting board examinations) trip.

When talking to her about my travels through Asia last year, I had mentioned how it was becoming an increasingly scarier time to travel than ever before because of what seems like an increasing rate of terrorism in this world. I expressed my concerns to her about going to Amsterdam and London this upcoming August.

The UK over the past month has seen a number of terrorist attacks, some of which have hit close to home as one of my co-workers lost his fiancé on the London Bridge. She reminded me of an important concept that I told my mom before I had left for Asia, that we cannot live our lives in constant fear of an unknown death or terrorist attack.

She told me that I should always live my life like it was my last day

She told me that I should always live my life like it was my last day. After she had said this, there was a moment of silence, she looked sideways, and then she kind of did one of those laughs combined with a sigh. One lone tear fell out of her left eye. And then she began to well up. Then more tears came out and she began to cry and continually apologize, which she didn’t need to. Obviously it seemed like something was bugging her and I was lending an ear for her to talk if she needed it.

We were sitting in the middle of a party

We were sitting in the middle of a party, music blaring, people laughing, people taking pictures, and here she was crying on the couch amidst it all. I didn’t want to pry and ask why. She knew I was there for her to listen if she so chose to talk. And choose she did. She began to tell me about how she had lost her father last year very unexpectedly. I didn’t ask how or why or when or what, I just let her grieve and talk.

I tried to comfort her with my silence and presence. She kept apologizing, again, something she didn’t need to do. When she gained some composure, she proceeded to tell me how I can never live life in fear of death, and how I should always hold loved ones close, because you never really know when it’ll be someone’s last day.

And that I should take my trip to Europe, and that I should still go to London, and that I should go with as much force and love for travel that I have as possible.

For all those dads out there

Thus, I just wanted to wish a Happy Father’s Day for all those dads out there (whether on Earth or not) by sharing some of my stories with you.

And to all my friends who have fathers with terminal cancer/ill health or have already lost their fathers, I know who you are, please know that I am thinking of you especially today.

Specifically, to my dad, I want to thank you for always being so overly and incredibly supportive, even when I did not expect you to be – me moving across the country for University. The fact that you have a gay son, the fact that you think I should travel as often as I do, and the fact that you think I should work abroad, our shared love for caesars etc.

I could go on and on. You are an incredible father to me and my siblings, and an even greater grandfather to your three grandsons. Keep being the funny guy that you are, my friends love your Facebook comments. Love you long time dad! See you in 11 sleeps, on your 58th birthday! <3

Written by: Chris Lacher (@thatlacherguy on Instagram)

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