The people who mean the most to me.

Today I got home from taking the girls to a playdate to find 2 messages on my machine. They were my sister and brother calling to tell me something important. When I finally tracked everyone down, they were at the hospital with my dad. He'd had a second heart attack.

My dad is okay, but I worry that I don't get to spend enough time with him. That my kids don't know what a great Grandpa he is. I worry that someday I'm going to have to say goodbye to my parents. I know it's inevitable. I know we'll be together in Heaven...but that doesn't change how scary it is to get that phone call.

I've got a great dad. When we were kids, we used to play dominoes with him. He pretty much taught me to do math in my head with it. I remember sitting around a towel in the living room sharing a big bag of peanuts. The shells went into the middle of the towel and then he cleaned it all up for us. My dad got me started reading. When I was young, 9 or 10 I had the first manifestations of my depression problems. He helped me by giving me a way into another world where I didn't have to stress about other kids or school or anything.

I have also been lucky enough to find a second father in my father-in-law. Of course, the more I love my in-laws, the more I know I'll have to part with them someday too. It's the way the world works, who would want to be here forever?

It just occurred to me. One day my daughters might be facing the same fears about my husband and I. I hope they will have as fond memories of us as we have our parents.