At 10:59pm my one my aunt's called me. I had just gotten back from my first run earlier at 8pm, got something to eat, and laid down to try and get some rest before my 12am run then the phone rang waking me up from my halfway sleep. My aunt who is a very beautiful and regal woman from the south side of Chicago, told me me in her most calm voice, that my dad had been rushed to the hospital. He collapsed in his home and was unresponsive for a while. Said his blood sugar and blood pressure was thru the roof, vomiting etc and was taken by ambulance to a nearby Chicago hospital..."...not the best one, but the closest" were her words. My dad is diabetic and with everything going on..I thought that he got Coronavirus. I mean he does have preexisting conditions already, I was for sure they were gonna say that next. My aunt did tell me he got tested but the results weren't back in yet.
You know, I prepared myself for the worst while I was laying there. After I got off the phone I shed a few tears because I thought my dad might potentially die soon..I mean who knew what was going on really. While I'm trying to do this monumental thing for myself this weekend I may lose my father in the process. He could easily pass on my next run at 12am..I didn't know but I was prepared. I had just lost my grandfather, another great man, in January...but when I thought about him in that moment I didn't get sad..I felt strong. I used that strength to get up and get ready for my 12am run. I used that strength to know my dad would be ok.