Dad

Recently, I have let my mind travel back to enjoy some terrific memories. Many of them have focused on my Dad. He certainly was a handsome young man, wasn't he?

I recall asking him about growing up and attending church. He told me that his dad took him to Sunday school every week - and dropped him off. At that point my dad would hang out with one of his buddies. They didn't go to Sunday school, but rather hung out behind the church and smoked cigarettes. I guess that was where he developed his habit of 50 some years. He quit before emphysema caught up with him.


On the other hand, his health wasn't always "picture perfect." In fact, who would have thought that the handsome youngster would end up in a wheel chair in his twilight years. Of course, that brings on other memories.

I can't imagine what it was like for dad in the weeks leading up to his surgery. I don't think he knew anyone who had undergone brain surgery, let alone survive it. He was really worried before going in to the hospital and figured he would not wake up from the experience. I wasn't there in the recovery room, but I gather he mouthed "oh sh**" when he came out of the anesthesia.

He had a pretty long stay in the rehab hospital. Naturally, dad was not what you would consider an athlete, so the physical stuff to get his muscles in shape so he could get from chair to chair and wheel chair to bed was another new experience for him. I must give him credit, he did keep up his exercise program (although perhaps not quite as vigorously as other athletes might) for many years following his return home.

No matter what, however, I will always remember that dad loved his family. He enjoyed all the times we spent together (more on that at a later date - believe me!). In 1990 (Easter - can't you tell from the great hats!), Dad was still able to walk around, even if it required a little assistance from a cane. I wonder how he felt later when his mobility relied on a wheel chair, and mom got to push him around (physically as well as the other way) when they traveled. Mom was a trooper - she took over the driving chores at that time. And we (my sister and I) have great memories of when Mom first learned to drive (but that too is another story for another entry).