I come to you today with a heavy heart. 😦
As you know if you follow my blog, I live with my 85, soon to be 86, year old father. He’s always been very well put together, always dapperly dressed in matching ensembles straight from the dry cleaners. He’s always the life of the party no matter where he is. Never a moment passes that he’s not right there with a story to tell to entertain the crowd no matter how big or small. And usually with a cocktail.
He’s not feeling so good. 😦
Journalism major here. That would be
not feeling so well.
And hasn’t been for several weeks.
He has lost his appetite and along with it, his spunk. 😦 His zest for life. He hasn’t been out and about doing his usual routine. He’s feeling weak and looking frail.
We called in the troops last week and his whole family rallied. My 3 precious daughters and their men (except Dexter…we missed you Dexter!) and children and friends with brand new twin babies all came over to cheer him up. Celebrate life. Celebrate him.
He seemed to enjoy it. He put on his happy face and ate a few bites. Told a story or two to his newest audience members that hadn’t heard his tales of old. Then went back to his chair.
But now he’s back in bed. 😦
He’s always been my daddy.
For 56 years.
He’s the man that put me on his knee and bounced me as we sang Pony Boy as a toddler. He’s the man that could steady my bike as I attempted to maneuver a two wheeler. He’s the man that later taught me how to drive a stick. He’s the man that would play the slap game AKA slap Jack AKA red hands with me for hours until my mother would make us stop. He’s the man that would pour a glass of water on me when I wouldn’t get out of bed in the morning. He’s the man that taught me to play cards and throw a left hook and shoot a gun. He’s the man that stood up for me and slugged my riding trainer when he made me cry at a horse show. He’s the man that I still owe a father daughter weekend to at the Alpha Chi Omega house at OSU because I graduated in three years instead of four. And he’ll never let me forget that. 🙂 He’s the man that walked me down the aisle and gave me away to another. He’s the first man I ever loved. And probably the only man that never broke my heart. Only acted as the glue to mend it when it did break. He’s the man I sit at the table and eat chips and salsa (one of our favorites) with these days.
He may be old and gray, (But so am I! I just hide it better!) but that’s my daddy!
I just hope that somewhere along the way I have left a memory on his heart as well. ♡
(And I hope that my children and their children have seen my declaring the power of the mighty acts of God somewhere in the legacy I leave to them.)
Oh sure, we’ve had our moments, but who hasn’t? But we’re still a pair. After all these years. Who’d a thunk it? 🙂 Father and daughter.
We go together like chips and salsa.
(He’s the salty one, I’m the spicy! 🙂 )
He has shown me the very best way he could what a father is. He’s always been there. He created mt. Just like our Heavenly Father.
I ask each of you today, if you are privileged enough to have an elderly parent still living, to at this very moment call them or go see them and tell them you love them. And if you can spare a minute, please say a prayer for my father. And call me if you’re ever up for some chips and salsa! Yum! Thank you!
I love you daddy! ♡
Get well soon! 🙂
Even when I am old and gray,
do not forsake me, my God,
till I declare your power to the next generation,
your mighty acts to all who are to come.
Love and laughter,