Dear December-Thirteenth-Two-Thousand-Fifteen-Hannah

Dear December-Thirteenth-Two-Thousand-Fifteen-Hannah,

 

You have no idea of the grief you're about to experience. 

You have no idea how many good people you have on your side. You are loved.

You don't know that at 2:50pm today, your dad will have a heart attack and you'll have to do CPR on him.

You don't know that your boyfriend's friend will drive your boyfriend from Lincoln to Bellevue for you even though it's the Sunday right before finals week. You are loved.

You can't imagine how earth-shattering it will be to realize that your dad--your dad who is resilient and who once broke his freaking toe and didn't tell anyone because he was needed to help with something--is only breathing by the work of machines and is functionally brain-dead.

You can't imagine how earth-shattering it will be to see friend after friend after friend after friend come through the doors of that ICU waiting room. For you. To see that you're going to be okay. You are loved.

You don't know how crushing it will be to realize that there was never a chance. That you'll do everything right today and it still won't be enough to save him. That you'll wish you'd never had hope.

You don't know just how much you'll need that hope to get through this week. Your friends will give you hope in the form of tissues and food and coloring books and yarn. You are loved.

You have no idea how surreal it will be to drive back to Lincoln for each of your finals this week, knowing the whole time that your dad could literally die at any moment. Knowing that time is still moving while you are stuck in today.

You have no idea how amazingly understanding your boss and your teachers will be. You'll be worried about getting people to cover your group fitness classes and you'll be worried about your finals, but they'll take care of you. You are loved.

You don't know just how much you love your dad right now. You'll wish you had said it more often.

You don't know how much you have in common with your dad. You'll be reminded of it when you're cracking jokes in the waiting room this week and you'll be reminded of it today when you're the one in the driver's seat following the ambulance because you're the only one not shaking. You are loved. 

You don't know that a year from now, you'll be finishing up your first semester as an anatomy TA and the only person you'll want to tell all about it to is your dad. You'll hear your friends talk about bringing their family members into the lab to show them what they do. You don't know it yet, but you'll want to bring your dad. 

You don't know that a year from now, you'll be finishing up your first semester as an anatomy TA and you'll be proud of yourself. And you'll know that your dad is proud of you. You are loved.

 

Love,

December-Thirteenth-Two-Thousand-Sixteen-Hannah

xoxoxo