I know I'm a day early, but wanted to make sure I had a moment, and was "in the moment" when scribing my latest installment. A bit of an ode to my Dad.
I recently have had the privilege of caring for my Pop a bit. He's in his early 70s, and has had some health issues. Nothing like a lot of folks' parents have had. No cancer. He's got his mental capacities. But there's been weight loss, weakness, lack of energy, and the doctors to date haven't really been able to but their finger on what's been going on. All things considered, he's doing "fine" or "okay" as he likes to say.
So this gives me a chance for me to show my honor-thy-father in a newfound way as I support in more physical and mental fashions. Which is a pleasure. You see, our dads (well, most that I know) have been there for us. I mentioned in a Father's Day ode a few years back that my Dad was sort of a quiet supporter. A strong supporter for sure, but a quiet observer, and a quiet provider. And now I have the honor of distinction of supporting, observing, and providing for him in return.
My eldest is now 15 and while on the cusp of true employment is pretty much relegated to cutting lawns for a few bucks. And my parents have a lawn that grows. So this not only allows him to earn some cash, but gets me up to my folks' house more frequently. And I get to sort of live with them a little more now. You see, the proverbial time with my folks is on a special day (e.g. Father's Day), or when one of my kids has an event. But this is different. There's a bit of the old me who looks into their fridge and digs around a bit, but moreover, I get to hang with them. I'm truly enjoying this. This lets me see them smile more.
The other day my Dad had a doctors appointment, and in lieu of his recent weakness, my Mom had asked if I could accompany them in case they needed an extra hand or two. I was honored by the ask, and more than happy to participate. What made this all the more special was the fact that my eldest and I went to their place a night in advance and we got to spend the night. More smiles.
My dad has "his chair" and fortunately for me, there's a couch right next to it. This let's me sidle up alongside him for a Braves game and some dialogue. The dialogue around player performance, while still present, is lessening. And we talk more about how he's doing, getting up and down stairs in Maine, and such.
While this time has brought about a lot of questions and thoughts, (like what would it be like with this guy not around? How would I care for his wife?—perhaps a little morbid, but very real.) it is becoming a very special time. A time that I love.
It says in Proverbs (22:6) to "Train up a child in the way he should go, and even when he is old he will not depart from it".
Dad, you've done this. And is a joy to apply that training for your benefit.
