I got a call at lunch from my sister telling me that our Dad had been in a motorcycle accident. She didn't know anything but was leaving work to pick up our Mom to drive the hour+ to the hospital where he was taken. This one phone call set in motion a flurry of calls to rearrange my schedule, quick packing, a trip to the notary, and a fill up at the gas station. I kissed my husband and my little people and began the drive to Florida.
Many hours later the clock struck one a.m. as I pulled into my parents driveway. They had transferred him to a trauma center in Orlando to be seen by a neurosurgeon for a fracture of one of his cervical vertebrae. It would still be several hours before I would see him.
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