Scared.

The hardest thing I’ve ever done was watch my father walk away from me in the airport on Sept. 10, 2017. While he didn’t cry, I saw tears in his eyes as he turned around and never looked back. Neither of us knew what the future held.

Maybe it was for the best. I was already a blubbering mess, much like I’ve been the last 24 hours.

My dad is having open heart surgery tomorrow. Triple bypass. In the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic. To say I’m scared would be an understatement.

Today, that feeling of uncertainty is back like an old, unwelcome friend. I saw my father last night, and I’m seeing him this evening (social distancing be damned). And that’s the kicker, right?! Should I go see him? I don’t have symptoms, but 11 days ago none of this was an issue and I was out and about with the rest of you. Am I putting him at risk?

My sisters, my mother and I were all prepared for open heart surgery next week. It’s been on the calendar for a few weeks now, scheduled back before COVID-19 was a household word.

Nonessential surgeries are being canceled at the recommendation of the CDC which means dad’s got moved up. It’s happening. Tomorrow.

Okay, we can do this. We’ll rally and support like we always do, I told myself over and over again all day yesterday.

And then another blow. We just received word that we can’t be at the hospital to support him or my mom as she waits for hours alone in the waiting room. Only 1 person is allowed to accompany him at the hospital.

I feel crushed. The very breath I breathe taken from my lungs as my tears fall.

Logically, I understand and even appreciate the protocols. Spiritually, I’m struggling if I’m being honest.

And so I ask my heart what it wants right now. To see my dad, it responds. To hug him and tell him how much I love and appreciate him, not knowing if it might be the last time I say these words.

A bit dramatic, probably.  But that’s where I go first when I’m scared. Fear plays me like a fiddle even when I know I’m being played. What do I do when I’m this scared? I write. I write to get it out. To release the grip fear has on me. I write because it’s cathartic.

So, whether you’re the praying type or the good vibes type or the I’ll send you a meme to make you laugh type, this girl could use your help.

Whatever you want to send my way, I’ll take it. And send some for my mom, sisters and especially my dad too!

Much love + gratitude, 

Mandi

PS….I’m practicing all the tools I prescribe - gratitude, grounding, breath work, connection, prayer, faith, trusting my intuition when it says it’s going to be okay. It’s working. Slowly. But nonetheless, working.