Herself speaks.
Before I went to Oceanside to visit my Cherished Friend, I first visited my parents.
I do not write much about my parents, for various reasons. And also, because it is hard to write about what I see on the horizon:
My Daddy -- his mind, as sharp as ever -- lives in a body that is slowing down.
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Some people may cringe at a middle-aged woman referring to her father as "Daddy". Yet, that is what he is: Daddy. Let me tell you about him.
He is brilliant. He is an engineer by training, and an engineer through and through -- analytical, scientific, mathematical. Yet he is also nurturing, in his quiet way. He is stoic and patient, and without fanfare, takes care of things. He gives without ever attaching strings to his gifts. He is kind. He is tenderly thoughtful with my mother. He is the kind of person I aspire to be. I could never fill his shoes, but I can try to be like him.
He is 87 now, and his body shows its age. I think about how he described his mother, my grandmother, as gradually fading away -- getting smaller and smaller until, at age 97, she just 'disappeared' -- and I think that this is what will happen to him. We don't know how much time is left. It is hard to tell. We do know, though, that time is shorter.
I try to console him by listening attentively when he explains how to pay the bills and where all the paperwork is stored. I hope he finds comfort in imparting the information to me. I do my best to be equally kind and thoughtful with my mother, as he is. I let him know that I will take care of what needs taking care of, not to worry.
When the time comes, you can rest easy, Daddy. You have taught us well. We will do our best.
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