Somebody Upstairs Likes Him II
He was an artillery soldier in Patton’s army, and he always maintained that the only reason he survived the war was because of the big cannon-like gun he stood behind. Standing behind his “Long Tom,” surviving the war when so many didn’t, is probably where his trademark saying began: “Somebody upstairs must like me.” ~ From “Let Me Clue you in about My Father” Colleen’s essay that was read on WVTF Public Radio.
I talked to my dad on the phone today! Since his car accident on Monday, shock, drugs, and exhaustion have kept him from being alert and have made it hard for his family to know whether we should expect him to recover or not. “When can I talk to Colleen?” he asked my sisters and mother who were in his hospital room when I called.
One of my sisters told me that he woke up in the middle of the night and asked the nurse where his daughters were. On another occasion he asked for a mirror. And long before this accident he told my sister who is a nurse that if anything ever happened to him he wanted to be brought back at all costs. My dad, who survived the horrors of WWII combat, witnessed the unspeakable when his regiment liberated Buchenwald Concentration Camp, and struggled most of his life to overcome alcoholism, is a fighter and lover of life.
Because of the neck brace he was wearing, it took some effort to understand some of what he said, but he answered everything I asked. There were a couple of pauses in our phone conversation… where he might have been drifting off. Ultimately, it didn’t matter what we said, as much as it mattered that we were talking. I enjoyed listening to him breath in between words, even as it was labored.
None of my family members are “phone talkers.” My dad least of all. The funniest answering machine message I’ve ever heard was one of my dad’s. I called his house once and the answering machine picked up, at which point I heard his voice simply announce (in a tough Boston accent), “State your business.”
So, after a few more verbal exchanges, I laughed and said, “Dad, this is the longest you’ve talked on the phone with me in the last 20 years!” Soon after that he said, “Okay…I’m signing off now…”
“I love you dad,” I answered before the phone got passed to each one of my 3 sisters and my mother so that we could revel in my dad’s progress together. We know he’ll be facing a long recovery process that will likely involve time spent at a rehab center, but today was a first step in the right direction towards getting my father back home.
Photo: My mom and dad in front of their house.
October 22nd, 2005 10:34 am
Colleen, I am so glad to learn he was not hurt too badly in the accident. I hope he does what the rehab people tell him too!
October 22nd, 2005 10:39 am
I do too, Kenju! It’s going to be hard to keep him down. I mean that figuratively and literally. I heard he asked for a piece of paper last night and when the nurse told him she didn’t have one, he said “Horeshit!” He’s not going to be the easiest patient, but when he’s not we all feel better that his strong will is coming through! Thanks for your thoughts…and everyone’s comments and well wishes yesterday. They mean a lot to me and my family members (a few of which read regularly).
October 22nd, 2005 11:06 am
I am so glad your dad is getting better. I never had a dad to get to know so savor all the moments you have together, talking or not.
Hi from Michele! and Hugssssss
October 22nd, 2005 5:34 pm
Colleen, I am so glad to hear that there has been such positive progress. Your dad sounds like a fighter and he has so much love at his bedside. I hope all continues to go well.
Stay strong.
October 22nd, 2005 7:14 pm
What a sweet photo. It seems like you have such a loving (and large) family. I hope you are holding up okay. Your dad has been through so much. I can’t imagine what his experiences must have been like in WWII.
October 22nd, 2005 9:06 pm
Colleen,
I’m so sorry to hear about your father and your sister. Sherry told me but I could not get here until today to read your posts. Please know that you and your wonderful family are in my thoughts and prayers.
xoxo
October 22nd, 2005 9:22 pm
I wish a speedy recovery for your Dad.
October 22nd, 2005 10:40 pm
I’m glad your dad is doing a little better. I’ll keep your family in my thoughts.
My grandfather had a bad car accident and broke his neck when he was older and he recovered fine even though we were soooo worried about him at the time when he was in the hospital. He lived for many many more years after that.
October 23rd, 2005 12:07 am
Colleen, my dad was only in the hospital 6 times before he was 90, for hernias he got because he kept forgetting he was not Hercules. Most men are not good patients (as well all know) and if his strong will is coming through, it can only be a good thing!
Michele sent me tonight.
October 23rd, 2005 12:18 am
So glad to hear your dad is doing better. Men are such bad patients. My dad is too. He won’t tell anyone he’s hurt for days and then only when it is so bad everyone notices that something is wrong.
My mom is home from her knee rehab and continuing with PT here. Sometimes it takes what seems a very long time to heal, but his irritation with the nurses is a good sign.
October 23rd, 2005 12:36 am
I’m so glad to hear he’s doing better and that your sister is home. What frightening events, but family helps so much.
October 23rd, 2005 2:58 am
Sorry to hear this.
October 23rd, 2005 6:53 am
Ok, no more procrastination, I’m calling my dad today, even though he can barely hear me on the phone when I call!
October 23rd, 2005 9:07 am
Colleen, I’m way behind in my bloghopping, so I’m just now learning about your daddy and your sister. All good wishes to both of them for speedy recoveries.
How are you holding up?
October 23rd, 2005 4:27 pm
I’m okay…just sticking to my blog bluelaw I set up a month or so ago…taking Sundays off. My dad is hanging in there, but his progress is slow…with typical setbacks related to being immobile in the hospital setting. It’s hard on all of us not knowing how it will all turn out. My suitcase remains in my room, but it isn’t packed at this point. I’ll keep you all posted here and there. Thanks for all the support and concern.
October 23rd, 2005 7:30 pm
Glad to hear your father’s showing improvement even given the setbacks. Sometimes the same qualities that make a tough patient also make one a survivor.
My father and I had long phone conversations but he hated answering machines. His typical message: “Elissa — this is your father.” Click.
October 24th, 2005 9:03 am
Colleen, my move has gotten me way behind in my bloghopping, so I’ve only just now learned about your dad and your sister. I am so glad to learn he was not hurt too badly in the accident. I hope he does what the rehab people tell him too!
October 24th, 2005 7:06 pm
Glad to hear that your dad’s committed to recovery.
October 26th, 2005 5:49 pm
I just read your response to Kenju above and oh my goodness did I smile at his comment … he sounds just like my grandpa. I don’t know if the man (my grandpa) could speak without colorful words.
I’m so sorry your dad had this accident, but am so relieved to learn that he is on the mend.
Go Colleen and Kathy’s dad!!
February 23rd, 2006 11:26 pm
Hope your dad is doing better. Someone told me about this blog and in reading through I see your father must have been with mine under Patton’s command. He was also one of the liberators at Buchenwald. Checkerboard unit. He never talked about it. Too bad to recollect, although he spent the last few months of his life crying from the memory. Best of luck.