The Wake-Up Call

So I wake up in the middle of the night with a swollen lip and numbness.

Am I having a stroke?

DeRay checks the computer to learn the signs.
Call DeLoy, he'll know.

After fretting for an hour or two,

We finally decide it’s an allergic reaction to something.

It’s actually lasted all day and feels very strange.

During the night’s darkness,

I thought how quickly things can change.

Christmas wouldn’t matter.

Cleaning the house would have to wait.

I don’t need to worry about dinner for the Esplin siblings.

Or the program on Christmas day.

No Christmas Eve party with Carol and Melissa;

Or dinner with Brooke’s family on his birthday.

What will Eddy do without me?

Who will take him swimming and play games with him?

Floss his teeth, and re-brush his hair?

Put lotion on chapped hands?

Who will fix the meals, clean the house and do the laundry?

What if I’m an invalid and a burden?

I desperately want to stick around;

keep things as they were.

Go to the gym.

Do my exercises.

Print my journal.

Sometimes it’s cleansing to face the inevitable.

Sure makes every second, minute, hour, and day count.

Gratitude fills my heart for being able to do the things

I want and need to do and for everything I have.

Wake up, Jacob.

 For the first few years after we were married,

DeRay called me John Jacob McCormick Jr.

I don’t know why.

I had forgotten it until I wrote

“Wake up, Jacob.”