Today I have something a little different for you: a word from my father. He’s written a short personal essay for you, about a poignant and symbolic day for our family. For context, my sisters were both very ill for many years while they were young and this had a devastating effect on our family, though we ultimately pulled through intact and a little stronger (or, as the Mad Hatter would say, stranger) for it. It’s also worth noting that at the time when this essay takes place we had a small hobby farm, complete with a cow, that Jennifer is my mother’s name, and that Pearl is my little sister. She was three when this story is set.
I’ll let my father tell the rest.
When I brought Kate the cow to our property I set up an electric fence for her. I learned then how little I know about electricity and, though I had enclosed Kate in a small area, I wasn’t confident in the fence’s power. Nightmares often woke me in the middle of the night. I would hear someone knocking on the front door and always leapt up and ran across the house, fearing someone was there to tell me that Kate had escaped. Of course no one was ever on my doorstep and Kate was always where she should have been, except once.
It was ten years ago tonight. She was dried off, so I wouldn’t need to get up early the next morning to milk her, and we took the opportunity to stay out late at a friend’s house for an early celebration of the Fourth of July. But I knew the fireworks might spook Kate so I was a little worried about her.
A friend and I were outside lighting sparklers when Jennifer came out of the house and told me Pearl had pooped her pants. This was odd because Pearl had been potty-trained early, for months by this time, and we had never had any problems like this with her. We didn’t know it at the time but this was the start of all her medical problems.
When we got home I checked in on Kate, still concerned about the fireworks. But she seemed fine. She was an older cow and, like most things, she had seen it all several times before. Satisfied, I returned to the house and went to bed. Later, in the middle of the night, I again heard a knock at the door. It was not the two loud knocks, one after the other followed by silence that I heard in my dreams, this was different. I jumped up quickly, climbed across the bed as I always did (much to Jennifer’s annoyance), and ran to the door.
There were lights in the driveway, so this time I knew someone really was here. And indeed, when I opened the door a couple of ladies stood before me. They said they loved driving by and seeing Kate grazing but had noticed, on this occasion, that she seemed far too close to the road. I thanked them and went to check for myself. Sure enough Kate was in the tall grass by the road as happy as could be. I pulled her back, got her secured, and went back to bed.
But, July 3rd will always be remembered in our family as the day the nightmare came true.
Author’s Note: I originally wrote a version of this nine years ago. Pearl had an indeterminate diagnosis similar to Crohn’s and Ulcerative Colitis with a liver disease called PSC. Nika, my second daughter, was born that November with MCAD. We had three straight years of monthly hospital stays after that night. Thankfully the last few years have been better. A combination of miraculous (in the true sense of the word) events and a really smart and determined wife have allowed us to manage our health issues very well. We have made mistakes along the way but our kids are okay. Ten years ago tonight the medical nightmare started. We appreciate all the people who have walked with us since this started.