As explained in yesterday's blog. Events happened in April that I remember, but didn't enter in my diary. The diary was suspended for a month. I don't think I cared to face the facts, and put my observations on paper.
Yesterday's blog was about dad and Uncle Ray. And a stolen moment between the two, that I got to hear. In retrospect, that probably happened a week or ten days before this time period. Dad was still able to be up, and around the house at that point. But he was definitely weak.
He was not so, as I remember today's incident. He was bed ridden, and the cancer was taking his mind. He was becoming incoherent. It was obvious, but I refused to give up. It's strange to think this way. I've nearly given up on myself a few times in life. But as sick as he was, I refused to give up on dad. I was still waiting for a miracle.
This time, it was a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Dad was in bed. Mom was in the kitchen, or doing something around the house. The Celtics were on television in the family room. Late season or playoffs. I guess it doesn't matter. I've talked of dad being a "closet" Celtics fan, and how I became a huge fan at a young age because of sensing that in dad.
I wanted that bond with him, this afternoon. To watch the game together. I made the suggestion to mom. "Can dad come out and watch the game with me?" Her reply was something like, "Oh no, hon. He's way too sick for that."
Years and years later, I was sitting on my sofa here in Galesburg. I had the Celtics on the tube. Dad's rocking chair, the one he loved sitting in so much, was in the room behind the t.v. I didn't move, or set anything up. I just took a frame or two.
|The Celtics and dad's rocking chair.|