I don’t want to see anybody, but they won’t go away. So finally I stagger to the door and there are two of our local cops. I know I didn’t kill anybody on my way home so WTF? “Fran, sorry to bother you like this, but the home didn’t have your new unlisted number and neither do we, so we had to come down. Your dad passed away about an hour ago at the Veteran’s Home.” I had gotten up at 2:00 in the morning to pick up a person, who I thought was a young man, and drive him about 300 miles to an immigration court hearing. It was an absolutely grueling trip.
And I drove, and I drove, and I drove, fighting fatigue, promising myself that as soon as I got the passenger home, I would take a good long rest in the parking lot of his apartment building. Just get there. Just get him home and then I could sleep. But I was still some 40 minutes away from his home when I had to recognize that I wasn’t going to make it. My eyes were trying to close on their own. I kept catching myself spacing out even with my eyes open. I had to stop.