“Open-Heart Surgery”

Disclaimer: This post is going to give you an inside look of the workings of my heart in the present and in the past regarding the loss of my father. This post will take you through the many thoughts and events of the day he passed and my healing process. This post may make you uncomfortable, but sometimes life needs to get a little uncomfortable in order to get stronger, right? This was not a planned post- I simply want to share with you what’s been on my mind. This is the inner works of my open-heart surgery journey…

 

Every time I wrote the date 4/13/17 yesterday, I had a twinge of pain strike through my body. When I switched the calendar over to April 13th in my 2nd grade classroom, a part of me wondered if I should share the significance of this day with my students. Whenever the craziness of the day would settle down or get quiet, the memories of what happened a year and a half ago flooded my vulnerable mind and I was frozen…

As the days and months go by, there is never a day that I don’t think about and miss my dad. I don’t want this post to be a “sappy” or a “poor Melissa Joy” kind of post. I don’t intend to share my thoughts and memories to try to gain pity and I don’t necessarily need anyone to say anything. This is simply me. This is me processing what happened exactly 1.5 years ago.

One year, six months, and 1 day ago, I woke up suddenly around 5:30 in the morning. My eyes widened as the sun hadn’t woken up yet or peered through my window. As every morning, I tried to remember what day it was and what had to be accomplished that day. Then within a matter of seconds, the reality of what happened less than 24 hours ago hit me like a ton of bricks, and I couldn’t refrain from sobbing.

I sat up in bed, out of breath, my heart racing, and listening to myself trying to contain my sobs from waking my sister across the room. How could this be happening? Why was this happening? Did this really happen? Oh, my gosh, my daddy is gone…. Before more thoughts could flood into my mind, my mom came into my room from across the hall. She obviously wasn’t sleeping either, and she came in to hold me and cry together.

This isn’t happening. This CAN’T be real.

 

As I reflect on that day, I want people to know and realize that I have thoughts of that day I can’t shake. It’s a part of my story and journey for a reason, but this day’s events randomly pop into my head from time to time.

I’m going to be completely transparent with you about what happened through my eyes on that day. Tuesday, October 13, 2015…

I was on cloud 9 the morning of October 13th when I woke up excited for the new relationship journey I was about to begin with Jordan. 🙂 I kept replaying the “DTR” conversation we had the evening before and thought that it couldn’t have gone any better! I was so excited for the journey that God was planning for our friendship that was now growing into a relationship. I had an awesome day with my kindergarteners (who were half day and left at 11AM), and I had planned to eat my lunch in the classroom. I specifically remember that day going to my grandparents’ house across the street to take a quick nap before my 3PM extended care shift. I normally arrive back at school right before checking in at 3, but after my nap, I decided to go in around 2 to get some work done for the week. Little did I know that arriving about an hour early that day would position me to be in a place I never thought I’d be in…

As I was working in my classroom, I got an intercom buzz from the office telling me to come to the office right away. Ummm, ok? I didn’t think much of it. Maybe they needed me to cover for them in the office because of an emergency. I don’t know. As I walked to the office, the music teacher was on her way back to her classroom and she told me with a concerned face, “Someone in the church offices collapsed.” Immediately, my mind went to my dad…. After hearing that, I think I either ran, sprinted, power walked, floated… I don’t really know, towards the office. But as I approached the office, Miss Val was waiting for me and said, “You need to come outside and talk to the paramedics. They have a few questions.” As I was trying to process what she was saying, I saw the ambulance parked outside our school cafeteria/in front of the church offices- my dad’s office.

“What’s happening??” I asked as my mind couldn’t decide whether to go into fight or flight mode.. “Your dad collapsed and the paramedics are here to take him to the hospital.” Again, I don’t know if my feet walked, ran, sprinted, or floated to the ambulance. All I know is that I was frantic and asking anyone and everyone what was happening. I ran to the back of the ambulance and it was empty. Just as I turned, 3 or 4 men were wheeling out a stretcher with my dad laying unresponsive on top. They were talking in medical terms that I couldn’t understand. One held a pumping oxygen mask to his face, the other was on top of him pressing firmly on his chest and the others were wheeling him into the back of the ambulance.

There was a lady paramedic that told me to get into the front of the ambulance. I couldn’t even process what was happening as I looked through the rectangular window (with no glass) behind me as the paramedics worked on my dad, shouting a bunch of other things I didn’t understand. The woman driving next to me yelled to the men in back, “Daughter is in the front! Daughter is in the front!” I think she yelled this to them so they wouldn’t say anything that would scare me…

The ride to the hospital felt like a lifetime. The lady asked me to call someone to contact my mom and drive her to the hospital. I didn’t have my phone since I left my classroom in a hurry, and for the life of me I could NOT remember any of my siblings’ phone numbers- only my mom’s and dad’s. She let me use her phone and I tried calling Matt but I ended up with the wrong number. I was frantic. Jesus, please don’t take him. As tears flowed and my hands shook, I told her that I couldn’t remember anyone’s number except my mom’s. She said that I should call her but not to tell her what was going on. When I called her, someone from the church had already contacted her and she was on her way to the hospital. As I was talking to her, the paramedic kept telling me, “Don’t tell her what’s happening yet. Don’t tell her what’s happening…” I told my mom that I was with dad in the ambulance and that I didn’t know what was going on. And I honestly didn’t know. Jesus, please don’t take him. 

As I sat in the passenger’s seat looking at my dad behind me, all I saw were his eyes wide open and staring blankly towards the ceiling surrounded by a completely purple face. Jesus, please don’t take him.

When we arrived at the hospital, the paramedic instructed me to stay with her. They wheeled my dad back into the emergency center as I walked alongside him. His hand had fallen off the side of the stretcher. As quickly as I could, I grabbed it and held it until he had to be escorted to another room. Say ‘I love you.’  Say ‘I love you!’  My mouth didn’t obey my mind to tell my dad “I love you” before they wheeled him into a room and shut the door- leaving me in total darkness as to what was happening. I had a prideful moment of, “I don’t need to be dramatic and say ‘I love you’ because he is going to be fine!” For some odd reason, I was filled with peace that my daddy would be ok. Jesus, please don’t take him. I know he will be fine. 

Pastor Bob was waiting for me inside the hospital. I asked him what had happened and all he told me was that my dad was in a counseling session and he collapsed. He said he tried to talk to my dad but he was unresponsive.. Along with Pastor Bob were a bunch of nurses ready to overload me with questions… Here I am. I just rode in an ambulance with my dad and I had no idea what was going on. I had one of those “out-of-body experiences” where I felt like my mind was in another place, while my body stood still. “What insurance is your father on?” “Does he have a history of heart issues?” “When was he last checked by a doctor?”

Questions. Questions. Questions. I remember mindlessly giving the best answers I could with dried tears on my face. I was in a daze as the nurses in the large room around me were just going about their business as if nothing was happening. I couldn’t blame them. I came through the back emergency doors where they don’t usually question the family members. As I tried my best to stay in my own body to answer these questions, my mom came through another set of main doors with a face that was ready for tears. We shared with her what was going on and then we were escorted to a private waiting room towards the front emergency area of the hospital where several of the church staff were waiting.

That waiting room…. It felt like a small confining box. We had two pastors in the room with us as we tried to get ahold of my siblings, nurses came in to ask us questions, and people came in to check on us.

After what seemed like hours, the doctor came in and simply (and kind of cold-heartedly) said, “Are you the Yang family?” Yes. “I’m sorry to say, but he’s dead. We did everything we could but he’s dead.”

Remember that out-of-body experience I mentioned earlier? Here I was again.

Are you joking? You must be joking with the way you just came in here without any compassion and said, “He’s dead.”

What do you mean he’s dead?! I had such a peace about this!

I remember this moment as if I was watching it happen to someone else as opposed to me actually being the one experiencing it. My mom shrieked in disbelief. She cried out like I had never heard her before. Two pastors on staff and another close church friend/staff were also in the room when we received the news. Their jaws dropped as they held onto me and my mom. I can’t even remember if I cried, screamed, sobbed, I don’t even know. But I do remember feeling a strange, yet strong peace fill the room. I grabbed my mom and held her while saying in between the tears and cries, “It’s ok. It’s ok. We’re going to be ok. It’s ok. God knows. God knows. God knows…”

Time stood still at that moment. One by one, my brothers came into the room and were given the horrible and unimaginable news. We stared. We cried. We sobbed. We questioned.

Friends trickled into the emergency area outside of our room as the news spread. The church shut down early that day. The lead pastors, who had just checked in to Wrigley field for a Cubs game, turned right around to come to the hospital. More and more people filled the hospital as my family and I sat limp in the small confining box of a waiting room.

As we walked out to get some fresh air, I remember seeing friends from my life group come and give me hugs and I walked along the outside of the ER with my friend Jaclyn and tried to regain my breath. I remember seeing in the distance, Luke, Ally and Jordan walking towards me. Three friends that have played a huge role in my life that year.. especially Jordan. Jordan. Oh, shoot. In a selfish moment, I questioned what our blossoming relationship would look like now. This changed everything… But I couldn’t think about that right now. I couldn’t and didn’t really want to think at all.

When we all gathered back into the waiting room, my sister was just arriving from school where a church friend volunteered to pick her up. She had no idea what has happening. We took her into the room and told her the news that made her crumble. Silent tears fell from her face as Matt held onto her. I can’t even tell you, my friends, but it breaks my heart to see my strong, feisty, sweet, and quiet sister cry. Daddy was her buddy. She opened up to him in a way that was unique. She had also just shared a spontaneous fun one-day trip to Cincinnati to catch a baseball game together. And now life stood still once again.

A nurse came into the room and said that we could all see my dad if we wanted. We walked hand-in-hand with each other and passed all of the church staff and friends into the room I had last seen my dad. I will spare you the details of what we saw, but all I knew was that it wasn’t my daddy anymore. He wasn’t in that room. Yes, his physical body was, but his spirit wasn’t there.

As my mom and siblings cried, held his hands, stroked his hair and gave him kisses, I stood next to him with no tears. Instead, I held onto my siblings, specifically Matthew. I remember putting my hands on his back and said, “it’s ok. it’s ok. it’s ok.” He told me (in the most appropriate way possible) to shut up.

That’s when I think it started for me, friends. That’s when I took over “strong and protective” mode for my family. I needed to be the strong one. I needed to be the one to comfort people. I needed to be the voice of peace. I put these titles and expectations on MYSELF, and now I am, to this day, still trying to break those walls down and let others in. Trying to break down my pride and trying to deal with the grief that I have so unknowingly pushed so deep down in my heart.

 

So here I am, folks. I am on my journey of open-heart surgery to find my balance again. A balance that doesn’t require me to be perfect, have it all together, or have to daintily handle my grief. I would apologize for all of the “sad” posts I’ve been sharing lately, but why? Why apologize for the journey that I am on? The journey that is wrecking my heart for the better?

I want you to know, friends, that I am on a journey of healing. It’s been a year and a half, and it’s become more and more apparent to me that I need to start dealing with and facing head-on the reality in front of me. Jesus didn’t call me to be guarded, he called me to be honest, free, bold, and open with Him- which includes me going through the pain I’ve pushed away so willingly. I’m not going to stop living my life and going for my passions… if anything this will open me up to growing so much more now through my passions and opportunities.

 

It’s a journey, friends. And I want to thank you for taking the time to read this and be a part of it ❤

Jesus, please take good care of my daddy. And give him a big bear-hug for me too. ❤ 

 

xo

❤ Melissa Joy

 

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”  ~Psalm 73:26

“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” ~ Philippians 4:7