Life’s Real Hurricanes

Look up the word “hurricane” in the dictionary — and you’ll find a definition similar to this:  “A powerful storm, tropical in nature, with winds in excess of 74 miles an hour…”

But the true hurricanes in our lives aren’t tropical in nature.  They’re the events — maybe only a handful in a lifetime – that literally change who we are.

Singer Baz Luhrmann said wisely in his popular song, “Sunscreen”, not to worry about the small stuff, because “The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.” 

He was almost perfectly right.  My “hurricane” came at 3pm on an idle Wednesday.

I had just left a message on my dad’s voicemail that my son, Brock, had taken his first fall off the couch like a true man.  This momentus occasion naturally needed to be shared with the entire family.  I got a call back in just minutes… but it wasn’t my father.  It was his wife, Marlene.

“Paul, your dad is in the hospital.”

The next few minutes were a blur as I drove to work on I-75 learning that my father’s recent back pain quickly turned to tingling… then numbness… then the emergent need to remove a “mass” from his spinal column.

“Paul, right now your dad can’t move his legs.”

Thanks to a very understanding co-worker (John Gerard) and executive producer (Mike Jenkins), I was able to get on a plane just hours after the surgery.  While on the flight north to Philadelphia, I tried to prepare myself for what to expect.  This “hospital” thing is rather foreign to me — in my 30’s, I still have three living grandparents to enjoy time with.  So, I gave an honest attempt to contain my emotions and be strong for my dad.

It didn’t work.

Upon entering Room #10 of the ICU at Pennsylvania Hospital, I saw him.

My dad.

My oldest memory is of being a baby in a diaper and t-shirt… waiting by the front door for my dad to come home from work.

My dad — in the hospital. 

I remember my dad playing catch with me behind his apartment.  I remember my dad in the stands of each and every one of my Little League and High School football & baseball games. 

My dad moved me into my dorm room at Syracuse University.  Drove his then 21-year-old son across the country to his first TV job in Medford, Oregon.  Flew out to see me in Spokane, Washington, to meet the girl I was falling in love with (her name is Suzanne, my wife of eight years – and I still am falling in love with her).  Flew to Miami on the first possible flight when his grandson was born last year.

4 Generations of Deanno

He’s always been there.

But now, my dad is in a hospital bed.  Unable to move his legs.

And I lost it. 

I started crying with intensity I have never felt before.  I couldn’t control the emotion.  Here’s my dad — the self-made vice-president of a Philly labor union who just oozes life – struggling to simply wiggle his toes.  Seeing him in this state was one of the toughest things I’ve done.

This was the strongest “hurricane” I’ve ever felt.

I spent a few days with my dad… watching baseball, talking about Brock, just sitting there.  Doctors came in telling my father he had a good chance of walking normally again, but that tests on the mass were still inconculsive and that it might be a form of cancer. 

Friends and family formed a river of humanity flowing in & out of the room.

Life slowly — very slowly — returning.

When I left for the airport, I told my dad “I love you”.  Now I’ve done this thousands of times before — we’re actually quite good at always ending our phone conversations with that phrase.  But I think I meant it more that one time than all of the other times combined.  Because this was the first time I could ever remember thinking that it might be the LAST time I say it to him in person.

“I love you, dad.”

Those few days — this “hurricane” — has changed me.  Not only do I cherish time with my father more than ever… I now do the same with my little boy.  I am a son… but I’m also now a dad — and I now realize that every moment with Brock is that much more precious.

This “storm” has also put my life’s other events in proper perspective.  The economy stinks, NBC6 is getting sold, and drivers on I-75 annoy me.  These things all mattered a few weeks ago.  Today they matter much LESS.  Family is what matters.  Love is what matters.  Health is what matters.  If you have these things, the other daily tribulations will have an amazing way of working themselves out.

My dad is a tough guy — I have a gut feeling that he will be walking… and healthy… soon.  If prayer and good thoughts have anything to do with it (and they do) — he’ll be walking that much sooner.

As a meteorologist, I thought I had some expertise in hurricanes.  Turns out I didn’t.

Life’s real “hurricanes” you can’t prepare for… and I just got hit by one.