I honestly thought this was THE call. The one where I would pack a bag and hastily pass along directions to the lucky collegues tapped to fill in during my absence.
My dad is an interesting person. I could go on and on about the many things I love about him and how he amuses me so, but the one unique aspect of his personality is how he handles difficult news. Most people know something is wrong by the stressed voice and the urgent request for a return call on the other end of the line. With my dad it is quite the opposite. I get an even-toned (borderline upbeat) message that says something non-descript like giving an “update”. The end of the message is key. Most times the return call is requested when I have the opportunity, sometimes it will be ’soon’. Only with sad news is the return call requested same day. When a death occurs a “no matter how late” is tagged on to the end.
My cousin Natalie, the eldest daughter of my aunt and uncle who were in the accident, had been studying in France since September. It was an internship that turned out to not be as exciting as it originally sounded and she was axious to return to the States and see her family. Due to the weather, her flight was delayed and she didn’t arrive in Chicago until the Saturday before Christmas or the day after her family’s near fatal accident.
Her father was still in the hospital and the rest of her family was just released hours before. With no cell phone, she had no way of knowing what had happened and a family pow-wow decided that my cousins Daniel and Erik would take Natalie to Michigan and my Mom and I would go with them to O’Hare to break the news. On the way, my mom said she didn’t think she could keep it together, so I would be the one to break the news.
We arrived at O’Hare and waited anxiously at Gate B for Natalie’s arrival. Erik wandered off and returned in a hurry. “We are at the wrong gate!” The four of us ran to Gate A, Mom and I pushing our way through the crowd to get a good view of the passengers leaving Customs. Daniel and Erik split up, each making their way through the crowd to make sure we didn’t inadvertantly miss her. Through the Customs door, we saw Natalie’s face light up as she saw us, waving excitedly and picking up her pace to a near run. We motioned her over and Erik and Daniel resurfaced to share in the greetings. After exchanging pleasantries, Natalie said, “Are we waiting for something?” It didn’t seem to occur to her that her parents weren’t there to greet her; after all the extended family was to arrive at my parents house the night before.
As I took her hand to tell her the terrible news of her broken family, I found I matched my tone to the one my father uses in these situations. Matter of fact. As I spoke Natalie’s huge smile quickly faded into tears. Erik held her up. Daniel poured her a glass of water. Mom handed her Kleenex. I held her hand tighter and told her every detail I could think of in the most factual voice I could muster.
The ability to remain calm in stressful situations is a gift that my parents gave me through a lifetime of training. And watching Natalie, I think it is a gift to the recipient of the news as well. She started to become very upset but calmed immediately and matched my tone with her questions. It almost acts as a cue that everything will be okay.
Tonight it was not THE call, but it was the pre-call call. Grandma is in the hospital and her sugar levels are uncontrollable. My uncle Larry has his bag packed by the door. My parents are in the process of calling us kids to prepare us that the next call may be soon. And that call will be THE call. But, as my uncle pointed out, she is a stubborn Swedish woman, so it may not be as soon as we think.
Those damn Swedes sure are stubborn.