I spent the weekend on bed or on my sofa. Going off my medication schedule for one day was disastrous. My head felt like it was going pop off, my joints burned and I had nausea that wouldn’t subside. This prevented me from driving parents’ home in Westchester County to help them run errands, to take them to see my aunt and to wish my father a happy birthday in person.
I had some my father’s favorite treats delivered and I made plans with them for next weekend. But, I still felt that wasn’t enough.
This condition has robbed me so many previous moments, I thought.
As I laid around wallowing in self-pity, I thumbed through the photos on my photo. Then, I came to this one from Autoimmune Walk NYC last year. There, right behind me as always, was my father.
Despite his health issues, he made it to watch me deliver my speech. He took small cautious steps, paused often and leaned on a walking stick but he made it to the booth where I was selling my memoir. But, the day before his medical issues and traffic forces him to miss my presentation at NYU Langone.
I realized that our bond wasn’t damaged by not seeing each other for one day. Whenever possible we were there and always would be there for each other. And, on the days that’s not possible, we are by each other’s side in spirit. Our love endures.
Happy Birthday, Dad! I love you!
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