Brave

Chapter 4: Changes

Once again, I'm roused by hospital sounds, beeping, whooshing, muted announcements from some far-away PA system. My eyes are still closed. I begin the process of coercing them to stay open, and they fall closed again several times.

Are these people drugging me? Is that why I'm having such a hard time waking up?

Oh, right, of course they're drugging me. I just had my leg cut off, so I'm sure the pain meds are heavy duty, like morphine or something. I'm thankful for them, but I don't like the feeling of not being in control of my body.

Then I hear soft weeping. My mother is crying again.

"She's alive, Gabby." My father's soothing voice breaks through my fog. "She looks better than I thought she would."

Strange. I wonder if my dad expected me to be in a coma, covered with all sorts of tubes and bandages.

"And you know our Sarah," my dad continues in a quiet voice. "She's one tough girl. She will do everything she can to get her life back. She's as strong as an ox and stubborn as a mule."

I'm not sure if I should be insulted or encouraged by my father's assessment of me. I hear some more shuffling, probably my dad giving my mom another solid hug. For as much as he travels, my parents have a strong marriage, and I've always appreciated the way my dad takes care of my mom. When he's here, anyway.

I will my eyes to open and stay open. Sure enough, mom is wrapped in dad's arms, but as soon as he notices that I'm awake, he rushes over.

"Hi, Baby Girl." I'm calmed by my father's hushed voice, breathing his greeting onto my forehead. He follows with a kiss.

"Hi, Daddy." I blink my eyes. "You made it."

"Of course, Baby. I'm sorry it took me so long to get here." Same old story. He was tied up in meetings and couldn't get away. But something is different this time. I notice a crack in his voice, and then I meet his gaze. Tears are starting to brim over his eyes.

"Daddy, it's okay...."

Then my father, the very capable and successful businessman who travels the globe and stays in hotels more often than he sleeps in his own bed, begins to weep. "No, it's not. It's not okay, Sarah. You could have died and I wasn't here for you." He leans down and puts his head on my shoulder as if he's the one who needs comfort. It's hard to believe that he's the one who was speaking words of confidence to my mom just a few moments ago. I hug him and stroke his hair a little.

My mom walks over and rubs his back. He pulls away and continues, "When your mom first called me about the accident, she didn't tell me how serious it was. I mean, she didn't know how serious it was, really. I'm sorry," he repeats and chokes back a few more sobs. "When we hung up, I assumed that you would have a broken arm or something easy to fix. I figured I would try to carve out some time to come home for a weekend to check up on you. Your mom couldn't contact me again for a few days because I had my phone off during some important meetings. I mean, she could have called the emergency contact numbers for my company, but I know that she couldn't even think straight when she found out how serious it was. I hopped on the next plane as soon as she told me."

He breaks down again, and after another round of weeping, he says, "I'm so sorry, Baby. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

"Daddy, of course I forgive you. I'm okay now. I'm alive and you're here. I was really out of it until today anyway...or was it yesterday?"

"Okay, Baby," he agrees, stroking my hair and sniffling. He gives me one more giant hug and whispers, "I'm so thankful you're alive." He sits down next to me with a big sigh.