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.