This morning I was awoken to a knock at my door.
Not my front door to my house, mind you, but a knock at my bedroom door. Turns out, it was my sister. This was something I hadn’t been prepared for, since it was mine and my husband’s home that we lived in, alone.
She had come in to let me know that my mother had apparently been trying to call me since 6AM, and it was 2 hours of failed calls when she sent my sister to retrieve me. My father was having chest pains and he had to leave the family business to go to the emergency room. He runs a local rubberstamp company, which handles all sorts of self inking/woodmount stamps as well as street signs, endorsement stamps and more. My mother is the front end person, and the person who handles the books, while my father is the one who makes all of the products and cuts the material into specific sizes before using a laser to engrave whatever the customer wanted.
A few months back, before I had started to delve deeper into my depression, he had started showing me the ropes and how to create and manufacture the store’s products. While he was in the emergency room, my mother needed someone else to help fulfill orders because she never learned how to do it herself. They can’t afford customers not getting orders, because this business was how they paid their rent, their livelihood.
Without thinking, or showering, I put on clothes and grabbed my old uniform, while my sister made me a cup of coffee and gave me a ride to drop me off at the store. I spent most of the day doing things my mother was unable to do- go to the bank, drop orders off at the local USPS. Then heading back to the business in an attempt to help out the best I could. When it got a little slower, I took a break to drive down south one city over in order to give my old high school two boxes of books. Our library was also unable to get the funding for more books so they reached out for donations from our community.
Once I dropped them off and got back, we got the notice that my father was apparently healthy. They said his blood had an “oxygen rate of 100%, which was uncommon for life smokers”, and said that he was in great shape, but to follow up with his primary care physician. It made my mother much calmer, but worried me a little because he is the kind of man who has cut off a finger on the saw at the family business and didn’t run to the ER because he’s simply that “tough guy” that doesn’t do that kind of thing.
By the time I had gotten home, my sister, my workout buddy, had already started getting ready to go to her night job. We decided it would be best for the both of us to be held accountable and make tomorrow a double day.
So that’s where we are at, a family health scare and a busy day- but no excuses. We will hold ourselves accountable and do our double day tomorrow.
Be wary T25, we are coming for Speed 1.0 and Total Body Circuit. We will kick its ass, and we will get healthier.
If you’re interested in buying something from my parent’s business to help keep their livelihood secure, feel free to check out what they can do at EurekaRubberStamp.com