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| Here He Stands |
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| Getting Started |
It was 8:30am when I first heard the roar of my dad’s
chainsaw.
It was 9:00am when I peeled out of the driveway rushing my
dad to the emergency room.
Somewhere in those 30 minutes my entire world stood
still.
Somewhere in those 30 minutes I realized how vulnerable we
all are.
Somewhere in those 30 minutes I realized my helplessness.
Isn’t it confusing how time can do that?
I was out in the yard with Jon and Dad; they were discussing
“tree cutting down strategy” as Jon climbed up the ladder to take the chainsaw
from my dad so that my dad could relocate.
I was vaguely listening to them but I remember thinking how macho they
sounded and then I visualized “Tim the Tool Man Taylor” doing his barking-growl
manly noise. At one point I heard Jon
tell my dad, “so just move the ladder over a little bit” at which my dad
responded “okay”... but he never did.
That was it… Jon walked into the garage to get
something. I was picking up branches in
the yard. My mom took Bella in the house
to get her shoes on so that they could go on a bike ride together. Everything was in order.
But out of the corner of my eye I noticed something. I noticed the tree jolt. It jolted suddenly and violently and it caught my attention. I looked over to see what was happening.
Then, I watched in horror as my dad fell.
How long does it take to fall 20 feet?
He fell directly, he didn’t hit any branches,
it was as free as a "free-fall" can get.
How long does it take?
If you ask me, it takes forever.
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| Perspective of the Fall |
My experience is uniquely mine and this is what I
experienced.
My dad
My rock solid person
My stronger than anyone hero
My trusted friend
My inappropriate sense of humor buddy
My “I will always be here for you” ally
My protector
My dad unable to protect himself or stop time or keep himself safe.
My dad at the mercy of gravity. I watched and witnessed something I have never experienced before...
My dad was completely and utterly
HELPLESS
I watched as frame by frame he fell. I remember how he fell. He wasn’t screaming, he wasn’t flailing his
arms or legs, he was simply and silently falling.
And then I watched and listened
as gravity pulled him down and he collided with the cement.
The silence was deafening.
I wanted to hear noise. I wanted
to hear him scream out in pain or wince or swear. It’s like having a baby, the baby needs to
cry out, that is how we know that the baby is breathing. I needed my dad to cry out but the only noise
that existed was my voice.
My body was moving in slow motion towards my dad but my
voice seemed to be on fast forward. I
was yelling SCREAMING “my dad just fell out of the
tree, call 911” over and over again. I
wanted to be as clear as I could so that someone would hear me and immediately
call 911!
Jon heard me. I’m not
sure what all happened in that moment or two but I remember debating whether or
not to run towards my dad. I was afraid
of what I may see and after my experience in 2011 at the Reno Air Races, I was
very careful and very deliberate in my decision to move towards my dad.
When I got to him he was moving.
RELIEF
I was in full-blown “WE NEED TO HELP HIM NOW” mode.
Some people (my mom) refer to this as panic mode but I call it super vigilant chaotic "we need to help him now" mode.
Potayyyto/Potahhhto
I kept screaming for Jon to call 911 and then I would go
over to my dad and ask him where he was hurt.
My dad couldn’t talk, he could barely breath and what was his breathing sounded like shallow short breaths. I didn’t have the
patience to wait for him to answer me and tell me what was going on with him.
By this time my mom had heard the commotion and came
out to see what was going on. My mom is a lot less panicky a lot less loud a lot less crazy My mom is a lot calmer than I am in situations like
this. She was gentle with my dad, she listened to him and talked him through where his pain was. She didn’t see the fall so she was patiently asking him
questions and waiting for his answers.
Jon was on the phone with the 911 operator who had
dispatched the ambulance and I continued pacing around my dad, careful not to get too close to him.
I was afraid to touch him.
I was afraid to move him.
I was afraid that he was trying to move.
I yelled at him to “STOP MOVING” and my mom, the calm person
she is, stood up and put her hands softly on my shoulders and looked at
me. In a very validating and loving tone
she said, “Tice, it’s okay, calm down”.
In a not so very validating and not so loving tone I replied “DON’T TELL
ME TO CALM DOWN!”
(Side note) I’m never going to live that down. My dad says he remembers the whole
thing. Me screaming like a lunatic, me
asking him questions and not waiting around long enough to get the answers, me yelling at my mom… the funny thing is, he knows me, and he knows that I must
love him very much to let myself go crazy like that.
Against my advice my dad stood up. I was so mad.
But as soon as he stood up I ran to my van and pulled up to where he
was standing. I demanded that he get in
immediately. Jon still had the 911
dispatcher on the phone (this really did happen within minutes) and I told Jon
to cancel the ambulance, that I was driving my dad to the hospital myself.
As a matter of fact, everyone listened to me!
When we got to the ER I dropped my mom and dad off. My dad seemed to be in shock. He could talk (in an airy sort of voice) and
he could tell his arm was broken. As the day
progressed he got test after test done.
They eventually put him in an ambulance and transferred him to a
hospital in Phoenix because it had a trauma unit (apparently falling from anything
higher than 15 feet requires some sort of trauma treatment) where they admitted
him. He stayed there for a couple of
nights. He was pretty banged up with cuts and bruises but he was treated for 3 broken ribs
and a shattered wrist, which resulted in surgery.
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| The Events Documented |
Then he was discharged.
Then we got him back to Utah.
It’s been 11 days since this all happened and I’ve been
waiting for it to hit me, to catch up to me.
I’m familiar with trauma and how
it works for me and so I’ve been expecting it.
Today it hit me.
As I returned home from dropping Bella off at a swim party and pulled into the
driveway I looked up at the tree.
I looked down at the cement. And I felt the pull of my heart.
Here it comes.
Embrace it.
Lean into it.
Move through it.
I parked the car and got out. I went and lay under that huge tree. I lay in the exact place my dad fell and I
started crying. I closed my eyes and
said a prayer of gratitude. I lay there
for 30 minutes feeling all the emotion that was affiliated with my experience.
Somewhere in those 30 minutes my entire world stood
still.
Somewhere in those 30 minutes I realized how vulnerable we
all are.
Somewhere in those 30 minutes I realized my helplessness.
My crying turned to sobbing, which turned to gratitude,
which turned to peace.
Embrace it.
Lean into it.
Move through it.
I found peace in remembering the words that the emergency
room doctor said to my dad over and over again.
“You were watched over by angels today”
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Laying Under the Tree on the Place Dad Landed
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*Thank you for all your prayers and your thoughts and for reaching out to my parents and our family. We were overwhelmed (especially my dad) with all the outpouring of love and concern*
THANK YOU!
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