Dad

Well, I went to see dad after work today. (I only had a 6 hour workday today, meaning I was out and about at 5:00 PM). On the car ride from work to the nursing home I was reflecting on days gone by; days of when I was very young. My mind stayed fixed on a certain Saturday morning, probably around 1965 or so. It was winter and snowing lightly. I was the only one awake. There, beside me, was my little Westclocks alarm-clock. It was one of the very first things I had ever bought with my own money. I was so very proud of that little clock as I layed there just staring at it. It just ticked away. It was one of those wind-up types. If I remember correctly it cost about three dollars.

Another thing about that morning was the sense that we were a happy family, all safe and sound in a warm house. Dad did not have to go to work that day; Mom was a stay at home housewife; and Ron and I did not have to go to school. It was just a peaceful pleasant moment; obviously one that stuck with me all these years.

Dad is the only surviving person in my life from that time; well, surviving in body only. As I watched him today I tried to make believe it was that Saturday morning all over again. The reality is that he can't even remember that house anymore. He's pretty much confined to a chair with a respirator on. He's in a chipper mood however, and for that I am thankful. Now that one who was responsible for providing me with many a happy memory in my early years is depending on visits from me for his happiness.

How things change...