By John C. Enger, Ph.D.

Excerpt from "Fingerprints" by Dr. John Enger


“Madison! 911! CPR!”

 These words exploded into my serene Sunday morning as my wife and I relaxed in bed. Heidi, my first born, gasped and stuttered as she tried to explain the chaos shaking her world. Never. Never had I heard my daughter so distraught and lost.

          "We're on our way," I interrupted.

          "What's wrong? What's going on?" my wife begged as we grabbed whatever clothes our hands touched. I could barely breathe or respond. Something had happened to my only grandchild and everything in me screamed, Get there!

          "Madison,” I cleared my throat and tried again to find my voice. “Madison is hurt," I tried to share calmly as we hurried through our 3-bedroom house which sat approximately 4 miles from Heidi's home. Thank God we lived so close. I needed to reach my daughter and 'fix it'. That's what fathers do. That's what a man does, right? Pushing my vehicle to the limit, I can't remember if we prayed or talked. What I do remember is a strange feeling digging and pushing its way into my heart. Somewhere between my reality and denial, it settled."


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