Post by Rhonda on Jun 5, 2007 3:17:31 GMT -5
SPECIAL TIME
by Kathleene S. Baker
Admittedly, I pitched a bit of a fit when my dad informed me he
was driving down to Texas from Kansas!
He'd not made the journey by himself for two years. But, with
his new knee and a few minor health problems under control, he was
back in charge at the age of 88 and darned proud of his independence.
"Dad, I'll just have a pow-wow with Jerry and Marland and see
what they think about you driving. I'll let you know what we decide."
"Well, you guys just pow-wow on! I'll call when I know what day
I'm coming." That was it. Period! End of conversation. He hung up
the phone.
My husband, Jerry, and older brother, Marland, didn't like the
idea much more than I did, but what do you do? Our pow-wow was a
pitiful failure. Dad's driver's license had just been renewed, and
he had a brand new reliable car. Short of hog-tying him, there was
nothing to do but wait, wonder, and pray. We lost and Dad won
another round.
The phone call finally came.
"I'll be coming on Wednesday or Thursday. I'm expecting a bill
and want to get it paid before I leave."
"Just let me know which day it is, so I'll know when to start
worrying." I made it sound light-hearted, but I was dead serious.
On the other hand, Dad thought it was hysterical and nearly
broke my eardrum.
The highlight of Dad's trip was a few days at The High Lonesome
deer lease in Central Texas. He's hunted all sorts of game in
numerous states, but he blind sided us when he announced his need to
hunt down a wild hog. Again, what do you do?
You hustle to make plans, and thank your lucky stars that an
aging father is still able to enjoy life and tackle new adventures.
After the excitement of the hunt, I was concerned that the rest of
his visit might seem on tad on the tame side -- two solid weeks of
being stuck in the big city!
But, we wrestled a couple of jigsaw puzzles -- a great way to
stay busy and visit at the same time. He told wonderful stories of
his childhood as we stewed and fought over puzzle pieces, and I hung
on to each word as if I might never hear them again.
Dad delighted in the discovery of our new Western Channel, and I
watched more westerns in two weeks than I had in my entire lifetime.
After about a week he remarked, "I've seen some old movies I didn't
even know existed, and I thought I'd seen them all. Most of them
several times, in fact!" He shook his head at the revelation, and
then tuned in for the next one about to air.
We shopped for a new suit, found one, and he looked especially
handsome as he modeled it. Driving away from the mall he announced,
"This won't get much wear except to church, and the last time I wear
it I won't ever have to change clothes again."
It took me a minute to grasp what he was saying. "Oh, Dad! If
I'd known we were looking for burial attire I wouldn't even have even
taken you shopping." He simply laughed at me and his blue eyes
danced with mischief.
I let some things slide around the house in order to savor every
moment of our time together. Evidently Dad noticed! The day I ran a
few crucial errands, he cleaned all the tile floors while I was gone.
I was humiliated! Within the hour, one of the dogs deposited a piece
of dead grass on "his" sparkling floor and he spied it in a flash.
"How the heck did I miss that?" he questioned with a frustrated scowl.
All too soon it was time for our visit to end. Dad's car was
packed, hog meat and all, and he was heading home.
"I love you, Dad. I hope you weren't bored. I don't feel like
we did anything very special while you were here. At least nothing
that compared with your hunting trip."
Dad held on tight and stroked my back as we said goodbye. The
past few years we both seem to hang on a little bit longer each time
we part. Dad squeezed me a little tighter and his voice cracked,
"Every single minute we were together was special."
I pulled back slightly to see tears in his eyes and his chin
quivering. It's a sight seldom seen from a man that still envisions
himself as John Wayne.
"You're right. Nothing is more special than our time together."
I was batting back tears hoping he wouldn't spot them. Feeling
the need to lighten things up, I jokingly said, "You call as soon as
you get home so I'll know when I can stop worrying!"
"Yeah, yeah! You need to quit all that worrying. Don't you
know it'll make an old woman out of you."
With that, he climbed in the car, waved, and drove away just as
the sun made a spectacular appearance.
It made for a perfect, sunny finale to our "special time" together.
-- Kathleene S. Baker
by Kathleene S. Baker
Admittedly, I pitched a bit of a fit when my dad informed me he
was driving down to Texas from Kansas!
He'd not made the journey by himself for two years. But, with
his new knee and a few minor health problems under control, he was
back in charge at the age of 88 and darned proud of his independence.
"Dad, I'll just have a pow-wow with Jerry and Marland and see
what they think about you driving. I'll let you know what we decide."
"Well, you guys just pow-wow on! I'll call when I know what day
I'm coming." That was it. Period! End of conversation. He hung up
the phone.
My husband, Jerry, and older brother, Marland, didn't like the
idea much more than I did, but what do you do? Our pow-wow was a
pitiful failure. Dad's driver's license had just been renewed, and
he had a brand new reliable car. Short of hog-tying him, there was
nothing to do but wait, wonder, and pray. We lost and Dad won
another round.
The phone call finally came.
"I'll be coming on Wednesday or Thursday. I'm expecting a bill
and want to get it paid before I leave."
"Just let me know which day it is, so I'll know when to start
worrying." I made it sound light-hearted, but I was dead serious.
On the other hand, Dad thought it was hysterical and nearly
broke my eardrum.
The highlight of Dad's trip was a few days at The High Lonesome
deer lease in Central Texas. He's hunted all sorts of game in
numerous states, but he blind sided us when he announced his need to
hunt down a wild hog. Again, what do you do?
You hustle to make plans, and thank your lucky stars that an
aging father is still able to enjoy life and tackle new adventures.
After the excitement of the hunt, I was concerned that the rest of
his visit might seem on tad on the tame side -- two solid weeks of
being stuck in the big city!
But, we wrestled a couple of jigsaw puzzles -- a great way to
stay busy and visit at the same time. He told wonderful stories of
his childhood as we stewed and fought over puzzle pieces, and I hung
on to each word as if I might never hear them again.
Dad delighted in the discovery of our new Western Channel, and I
watched more westerns in two weeks than I had in my entire lifetime.
After about a week he remarked, "I've seen some old movies I didn't
even know existed, and I thought I'd seen them all. Most of them
several times, in fact!" He shook his head at the revelation, and
then tuned in for the next one about to air.
We shopped for a new suit, found one, and he looked especially
handsome as he modeled it. Driving away from the mall he announced,
"This won't get much wear except to church, and the last time I wear
it I won't ever have to change clothes again."
It took me a minute to grasp what he was saying. "Oh, Dad! If
I'd known we were looking for burial attire I wouldn't even have even
taken you shopping." He simply laughed at me and his blue eyes
danced with mischief.
I let some things slide around the house in order to savor every
moment of our time together. Evidently Dad noticed! The day I ran a
few crucial errands, he cleaned all the tile floors while I was gone.
I was humiliated! Within the hour, one of the dogs deposited a piece
of dead grass on "his" sparkling floor and he spied it in a flash.
"How the heck did I miss that?" he questioned with a frustrated scowl.
All too soon it was time for our visit to end. Dad's car was
packed, hog meat and all, and he was heading home.
"I love you, Dad. I hope you weren't bored. I don't feel like
we did anything very special while you were here. At least nothing
that compared with your hunting trip."
Dad held on tight and stroked my back as we said goodbye. The
past few years we both seem to hang on a little bit longer each time
we part. Dad squeezed me a little tighter and his voice cracked,
"Every single minute we were together was special."
I pulled back slightly to see tears in his eyes and his chin
quivering. It's a sight seldom seen from a man that still envisions
himself as John Wayne.
"You're right. Nothing is more special than our time together."
I was batting back tears hoping he wouldn't spot them. Feeling
the need to lighten things up, I jokingly said, "You call as soon as
you get home so I'll know when I can stop worrying!"
"Yeah, yeah! You need to quit all that worrying. Don't you
know it'll make an old woman out of you."
With that, he climbed in the car, waved, and drove away just as
the sun made a spectacular appearance.
It made for a perfect, sunny finale to our "special time" together.
-- Kathleene S. Baker