Saturday, September 9, 2017


Its Saturday  mid afternoon, started the day slow. Usually my teenage daughters make breakfast, we leave home for the day . This  Saturday.. I remember it so very clear. I woke up, made fresh scrambled eggs, with strawberries, biscuits with turkey bacon. Just the three of us. My cell went off, a text message from my mother. A group message, including my two siblings. Asking if we heard from our father. She needed a ride from Dallas airport. She just returned from Chicago, spent time with my eighty-seven year old grandfather. A year before, we had lost our grandmother, now my grandfather was adjusting being a widow.

 Our mother sat at the airport ,exhausted waiting for more than an hour for our dad. Employed with American Airlines for twenty years, the normal routine he would meet her at the gate she had arrived in, and both go home. As she sat there nervous, wondering why her husband who was known for his promptness was no where to be found. No texts back from the previous evening. Rushing home as my brother would be the one too  pick up her up. As she entered the house, his work badge was still on the counter. His office neatly still in tact.

 My father had a heart attack at his local gym, paramedics unable to revive him. An extensive surgery was ordered, unfortunately  he had  pneumonia right after the surgery. Also later having double pneumonia .. It wasn't until almost two months later, our father came back to life.

My daily visits to the hospital, worried what the doctor would say. Observing my mom as she kept a strong attitude, filled with confidence. Protecting him . Making calls, financially making decisions. Our father was on life support, fighting for his life. Our older brother flew in from St Louis, hadn't been in Texas for years. It's four of us altogether. My Aunt was the glue that kept us focused.

One day mid February my mother called, my dad had opened his eyes . His memory a blur.

A man who lived an active healthy lifestyle. A former marathon runner and trainer.  One who enjoyed traveling all over the world. , yet at times an overachiever . My dad always worked extremely hard. Worried about others , giving back was his service. Not a smoker, nor a drinker. We couldn't gather what caused such a horrific experience. But yet he fought and was on dialysis. Daily trying to get his physical strength back. Present day, he is doing very well. loving and living life.

A man who  impacted and influenced an entire community for many years. I was  in awe on how well respected he was, as visitors daily came to see him at the hospital. One day in particular a woman I've never seen before, came in the hospital room . She was in tears. Told me my father always uplifted her , as they once worked together at the airlines.  At that moment I knew that our family had to keep the legacy going.  I instantly understood , that how you treat people in life defines your true Character. 

Thank you January


  1. What a heartfelt memoir of that fateful journey that God gave us the victory and witness to His healing power. It impacted us all that life is precious. So thank you Miya, my poetic writer and daughter for capturing our story to encourage others to Never Give Up!!

  2. Thanks Miya for sharing a powerful story of purpose, love and victory!!!