It was an October afternoon during my first semester in college. I had started sweating profusely and was running a fever. I climbed up into the top bunk and lay there. My parents called later that evening, and I told them I wasn’t feeling well.
Dad drove to Ithaca the next morning. I don’t know what he was thinking during the four hour drive (with him behind the wheel, it was probably closer to three), but I know what my roommate said about it:
He must really care about you.
Dad took me to Gannett, and once I received a prescription, he took me to a pharmacy he had researched online. Dad had done his homework. We raided the aisles and got every possible medicine I would never need.
On the way back into the dorms, we ran into A. She told Dad what a “trouble maker” I was, and Dad laughed before engaging in casual banter. A later told me how “cool” he was.
Dad drove back that evening. Before embarking on his four three hour drive to Jersey, he gave me a big hug and kiss. While I was still running a fever, I felt a lot better.