The Saddest Moment of My Life
In the summer of 2022, my dad and his girlfriend, Melissa, were in a motorcycle accident. The accident happened around 4:30 pm, but I didn’t find out until 5 hours later. I was getting ready to hang out with a friend when my boyfriend called me and told me I needed to call Melissa’s son. I had never met her son, but my boyfriend happened to know him from high school. When I asked my boyfriend why I needed to call him, all he could tell me was, “There was an accident, and he needs you to call him.” So I called him, and in a surprisingly calm voice he told me what happened. My dad and Megan were out on a ride when they took a sharp, poorly marked turn too fast. Their bike tipped and slid into an oncoming truck. Megan had passed away on the scene of the accident. The police were not able to tell him about the condition of my dad or where he was taken. After getting off the phone with him, I had to call the hospitals in the area and was able to find out that my dad was life-flighted to Northern Light Hospital. I then had to call all of my family members and inform them of what happened. We later found out that my dad had his wallet and ID on him, so we are not sure why no one in my family was contacted by either the police or the hospital.
In the days following the accident, I learned that my dad had sustained broken facial bones, several broken ribs, a broken arm, a broken leg, and a traumatic brain injury, along with numerous lacerations across his arm, leg, and face. The worst of his injuries were the broken arm and the brain injury. Because of these injuries, he was a fall risk, which meant he couldn’t leave his hospital bed without the assistance of a nurse. The only problem was, because of the brain injury, he did not know he was in a hospital and didn’t understand that he was injured. While there were alarms that went off when he got up, the nurses could not always respond quick enough to ensure his safety, so my sister, grandmother, aunt, and I took shifts staying with him in the hospital. He also fought the nurses a lot, so we had to be there to calm him down. I’m not sure who he thought they were, but he did not like them at all. Since my sister and I were younger, we were given the night shifts. For 12 hours, I would be tasked with staying with my dad and keeping him from accidentally hurting himself. Between his stubborn personality and the brain injury, this was harder than it sounds. He often tried to get out of bed in the middle of the night, which meant I had to stay up the whole night and watch him. The first couple nights I stayed with him in the hospital, I sat in a chair next to his bed. Eventually, they moved him to a different room and gave my family a cot to use.
Each time I visited my dad, he thought we were in a different place. There were a couple nights when he thought we were in a few different places. The doctors said that his memories were jumbled together and that his brain was combining memories and making up stuff to fill in the gaps. One night, he thought we were in a hotel room in California, visiting the base where he went to boot camp. There were a couple times I’m not sure he even knew who I was. In some instances, he was just missing or mixing up small details, but in others, he had completely forgotten major events. Not even six months before the accident, my grandfather had passed away, followed by my childhood dog. My dad didn’t remember either of these events, and me and my family had to remind him numerous times. He only asked me about Papa once, but when he did, I was taken aback. It was so recent and painful for me that just reminding him about it brought me to tears. I will never forget my dad heartbrokenly saying, “God, how could I forget something like that.” He asked me about our dog, Jasper, multiple times. Jasper’s death was even more recent. There was one night when I didn’t have the heart to tell my dad about his death again, so I lied and told him Jasper was doing great.
Far worse than reminding him about Papa or Jasper was telling him about Melissa. The entire time he was in the hospital, he kept asking for his phone so he could call Melissa. My sister had taken his phone, and we decided as a family to divert him whenever he brought up Melissa. The nurses and doctors told us it was better to wait until his brain recovered a little rather than repeatedly having to break the news to him. When his memory seemed like it was getting better, the hospital made an exception to their COVID regulations and allowed my whole family to go in so we could tell him. His reaction made it clear that he still wasn’t fully there mentally. He seemed very confused, and I don’t think he fully understood what we were telling him. The following days, we had to remind him a few times, but it slowly sank in. Once my dad was released from the hospital, he stayed with my aunt until he was healed enough to go back to his own home. My sister, grandmother, and I continued to take turns staying with him during the day while my aunt was at work.
To this day, my dad does not remember the day of the accident or the time he spent in the hospital. He has never talked about the hospital or asked me any questions. I’m not even sure if he knows that my family took turns staying with him in the hospital. My dad has fully recovered from all the physical injuries except the brain injury. His memory has gotten better, but it will most likely never be the same. My dad is pretty stoic, and he hasn’t talked much about his injuries. From what he has told me, his memory sounds like a redacted document: the memories are there, but bits and pieces are missing. Names, faces, dates, places, and other details are just gone. My dad tries to hide how much the brain injury affects him, but I see through it. We have a lot of repeated conversations, and I’m never sure how much of our conversations he actually remembers. He always has this pained expression on his face, like he’s lost or confused. Brain injuries take a long time to heal, and I am hopeful that his memory will still improve. Melissa’s death will take even longer to recover from. I had never seen my dad as happy as he was with her.
Reading and even just writing this down was really hard. I’ve never told anyone about a lot of what happened in the hospital. I teared up a few times thinking about my dad in that confused, sad state. Writing and reading this made me very uncomfortable, and I considered choosing a different subject to write about several times. The goal of this assignment was to be more honest than your comfortable with, and this is definitely more than I am comfortable sharing.