Sunday, January 22, 6:26 a.m.

a phone call from my mother

she is in the ambulance

my father is on the gurney 

we meet them at the emergency room

he is in agonizing pain

the O.R. is being prepared

I wrap my fingers through his

"I wish I could kiss your hand" he whispers

I place my cold hand against his warm cheek

he turns his head and delicately places his lip against my palm

"You are doing so good" I say.

I tell him I've spoken with my sister in Boston

and he cries.

"The world goes round cause of dads" read a text from my friend.

She knows about dads and daughters. 

today my world is still going round.