POP. SSSSSSSSSSS. The tire started to wobble and the car became out of control. I pulled over on the very narrow median, right against the cement barrier of Interstate 495, which more resembles a Nascar track, at the peak of rush hour. I called AAA and they said it would be a two hour wait, and I’m all, DO YOU KNOW WHERE I’M STOPPED?! I guess it didn’t matter to them. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I called my dad crying. He had just started to get sick, and I didn’t want to ask him for help because I wasn’t sure if he could do it. After a less than sixty second conversation he promptly hung up the phone and said he was on his way. Not fifteen minutes later, I saw his black BMW with it’s hazards on, precariously make it’s way across traffic and pull up right behind me. I took a huge sigh of relief. When I needed rescuing. My dad, he came. To rescue me, selflessly, even though his balance was so off we weren’t sure if he could do it.
He stepped out of the car with his suit on and started removing the lug nuts, as his tie flapped in the wind, generated by the cars whizzing by at 75mph. And when his balance was thrown off, he would put his hand on the back of my white civic, recompose himself, then continue changing my tire. Although it meant a lot to me at the time, I never knew how just how much that moment meant to me, because we all were unsure of how this sickness would progress. But through all my years one thing has remained the same, he comes, to rescue me, selflessly, even though he’s not sure he can do it.
Happy Father’s Day Dad, Thank you for passing your love of photography to me, rescuing me times of need, and pushing me to chase my dreams. I love you. m