February 21st, 2013: A two sentence entry in the original diary. Not much to add, 40 years later.
The 21st was a Wednesday. So, if dad was resting, he was resting at home. Being kept away from the hardware store. That probably bothered him. The store was his sense of purpose. Like me with a camera in my hands. Not just a job. A passion.
Almost anything I could add here, right now, would borderline on speculation. I was at school all day. Dad would was home. Mom was home. I don't know how they passed the time. He was sick, but far from frail and bedridden, as he'd become later. Even as bad as the circumstance were, mom may have enjoyed having dad around the house.
Maybe they talked about what was ahead? Maybe they went uptown for lunch? Depending on the weather, I'd have ridden my bicycle to school. Or, been taken and picked up by mom, or some other parent from the neighborhood.
Dad was lucky. Rich in friends. There's a good chance someone might have made a stop by the house to check on him. Visit for awhile. Ask if there was anything he needed. Or, help mom out.
With an entry like today, there was either not much to report on. Or, I was bored, and running out of new things to enter in the diary.
I had missed something in my notes from two days ago, the 19th. Something important, but not in my original diary. They had found the size of the tumor to be smaller than first thought. But the tests had also come back as "positive." I had recalled of not remembering how we all reacted to this news. And not recalling as to whether I was invited to the meeting when dad was told the biopsy reports were positive. He was definitely full of cancer.
Somewhere around the 19th or 20th, any doubts were erased. And hope was given a major blow.
|Look at all the knives! A window display from the hardware store in 1955. Shapleigh (a hardware wholesaler) awarded grandpa and dad a first place, worth $100, for the best window display of May|