When dad was in his early 30’s, way before we had children, he had knee surgery on his meniscus. It was understandable, since he is a runner. However, when he required serious knee surgery in his late 40’s, it was foolishly self inflicted. It was Palm Sunday, 2015. We invited some family friends of the kids to hang out with us at our farm property. We had games, a piñata, swimming and ATV riding through the pine tree forest. We spent many weekends riding the ATVs through the treed paths and open pastures. Our farm was considered the ultimate playground for David and Hannah’s friends. Well, not so much on the fun side this particular day. While I was stirring food in a pot and chatting with my mom friends, Brandon hollered that dad was hurt. I initially shrugged it off and said, “Dad never gets seriously hurt. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Please know this response was not heartless, just true. When dad bit straight through his lip about 20 years earlier, he took a needle and thread, sewing his own gash shut. Dad doesn’t seek medical attention. He handles doctoring on his own. So, I thought Brandon was fretting over something minor. When he insisted on having our medical insurance card and started looking for the keys to our vehicle, I decided I should at least go outside to see what incident had occurred. Well, dad was out riding when his ATV encountered a rock. Instead of slowing down or turning away, dad was jumping the rock as if he were Evil Knievel. As he landed, he stuck his leg out to balance and keep the machine from flipping over. Big mistake! His foot hit, leg twisted and knee shattered. Dad came to realize he’s not the Bionic Man, either…….continued tomorrow.
