Friday, September 9, 2011

End Days




When I left the hospital last night my father  whispered,
"I heard you crying.  Don't be upset when I die. I've had a good life, a good wife, a good family. Who could have asked for more?"



We were called back to the hospital at midnight but by 1 a.m. he had stabilized.
We left about 1:30.

I woke up at 5:30 and puttered around, so tired now, I'm never really sure why I'm in whatever room I'm in - but always waiting for the phone to ring.

About 9, I went out for groceries.

A lady was ahead of me at the checkout line talking to her red-haired three year old son.


I guess it was the hair.

I suddenly remembered my red-headed Dad telling me how humiliating it was during the Depression to have to go to school in a shirt made out of a sack.

The worst thing, he said with a look that always made me laugh, was the fact that every button was a different shape and colour.



I suppose some day the story will be funny again but not today.

Today I had to put my sunglasses on and hurry out of the store.
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