Getting up and going to work can be so repetitive. For some people there’s comfort in knowing what their day is going to be like. The great John Wooden once said, “Failing to prepare is preparing to fail”. I am one who likes to be prepared for as much as possible to start one’s day, especially a work day.

In September 2016 my work day started out very much the same here in Northeast Ohio. Many of us were still riding the wave of happiness and joy from our Cleveland Cavaliers just doing the unthinkable by coming back from a 3-1 series deficit and winning the NBA Championship on Father’s Day in June. I had been getting up and going to work for months with a higher energy level and a sense of belief that as a business we can overcome anything because like LeBron James said, “Nothing is given”. “Everything is earned”. As a manufacturer we were earning our day like any other by putting quality work into our products to take care of our valued customers. That’s what our sales manager with 40 plus years experience had ingrained in us. That afternoon he came to me to let me know that one of our customers had given permission to ship them their product. As I sat down in our shipping department computer to prepare the shipment the sales manager remained there to help prepare the boxes. As I was starting to finish up my responsibility I noticed the box prepping behind me was quite and I didn’t hear the process finish from beginning to end. Something wasn’t right. I turned around and said, “Are you ok”? He had his back to me, sitting on the box and began to slouch to his side. I jumped up and grabbed him only to realize he was having a heart attack. I quickly called for help in our facility and immediately called 911 and put them on speaker. It was time to put the years of CPR training in use but it was most difficult to remain calm and focused. Thankfully the paramedics were there in minutes as I struggled to keep my emotions in check. They couldn’t find his pulse and that led to multiple shocks and adrenaline shots being performed. I finally let out, “COME ON DAD”! “LETS GO, DON’T GIVE UP” multiple times. This man who is the sales manager, my coworker who is fighting for his life on the floor of my job is also my Father.

After what seemed like 10 minutes of working on him ,somehow they finally got a pulse. They immediately rushed him to the hospital where they put him in a medically-induced coma. He remained in that state for the rest of the week due to the concerns over blood flow loss to the brain. In the meantime I had a small business to run as the owner was out of the country and my father needed his customers taken care of. I’d visit him in the evenings hoping and praying that somehow he’d be OK, but the doctors didn’t promise anything. By the weekend the decision was to take him out of the coma and to see what his brain functioning level was at. With all of us still concerned just waiting for the news the doctor finally gave us his test results. He said that the test results came back normal.

James with his father and his family.

At that point with a huge sense of relief I told the doctor, “Thank you Doc because my Dad hasn’t been normal his whole life”!

Yes I went right to my sense of humor after hearing the news we all had been waiting to hear because that’s the kind of relationship my dad and I have. After another heart procedure at the Cleveland Clinic he was back to work in weeks not months because of his dedication to his customers, the business and our family. He continues to work today doing what he loves. Taking care of people who happen to be customers.

In 2016, I saw a comeback on the basketball court that had never been seen before in the NBA Finals only to “Witness” my father stage a greater and more impactful comeback of his own life right before my eyes.

I use that day as a reminder anytime I think to myself, “Are you having a bad day at work”?

The answer now is never yes. It’s a challenge that is being presented to you. Most work situations aren’t life or death and it took this one with my father to put that into perspective and I feel blessed and fortunate enough to share it with all of you.

Thank you Lauren and The Unsealed Community.

To the world,

This is my story about perseverance, a perseverance I didn’t know I had in me. But as with many things in life, sometimes you find things out the hard way.

As I got older, and my parents got older, I knew that there would be a day when the roles would be reversed, and I’d be the one taking care of them. When my mom passed in 2004, I made a pact to myself that I’d never let my dad feel alone. 48 years with mom, I never wanted him feeling like he was by himself.

As dad got into his 80’s, things got tougher. For him of course. And for me. He developed Parkinson’s and dementia in his mid 80s. Simple things-things that we take for granted like speaking clearly, remembering what he had for lunch, sitting down from the toilet all became a challenge. Again, for him. And for me. My brother and sister had moved to California, so it was just us. We always said, “We’re a team.”

James with his dad.

The last few months of him living in his condo were very challenging for us. For me, it was gut wrenching to walk in every day and not be sure what kind of state he was in. Things we always enjoyed became less fun-like dinner, watching TV, talking sports. It became more of just trying to get to the end of the day-more survival than living. The idea that I could see my dad have Parkinson’s-induced hallucinations, and come to his condo or the nursing home and meet the paramedics after another fall and still be OK after is something I wasn’t sure of.  But all that happened. Several times. I know he was the one going through it all. But because I was with him every possible step of the way, I went through it too.  I’m proud of how much I cared for my dad. It is one thing I will never regret.

There is no manual for what to say to a parent when they see a cowboy on a blank TV screen, what to say when you say your dad “playing” some sort of card game or rolling dice while he’s in his wheelchair, to try not to be sad when his golf buddies would come visit and be sad because their friend wasn’t his 100% self. I persevered the years before that because if going to Kohl’s five times just to get a pair of pants that dad liked was necessary, then so be it. I persevered by learning how to have the same conversations every day, because it’s what Dad knew and was familiar with.  But mainly I persevered because I had to. For Dad. And because he taught me how to for all of his 89 years, up until the very end. I learned from the best how to persevere through the worst. The worst meaning seeing my strong dad be maybe not so strong.  And to try to keep a positive face as much as possible, even when watching my dad struggle was tearing me up inside. Years ago, I wouldn’t have thought I could see all these things and still be OK. He was my hero. My Little League coach. My buddy to yell at the TV during Browns and Cavs games with.  But again, I did it. Because he did it. And we were the best team ever. Right Dad?  “Right”.

Thanks Dad,