The front door at my mom and dad’s house has a very busy doorbell. Don’t even get me started on their phone…seems like everything there is ringing at once.
Sisters are coming in from all directions, although we don’t ring the doorbell. We just walk in, look for dad , hug mom and each other and go about the business of figuring out how to do this.
There isn’t one of us that knows what we are doing. Since every day brings something new, the fluidity of thought and motion seems to work. Not much can be proactive these days. We are all in reactionary-mode. “Are you cold, dad?” Turn up the thermostat. “Do you feel like drinking some water now?” Only two ice cubes. ” Watching to be certain he’s steady, answering questions and visiting, but where is he? Where is he going?
His job was always to take care of us. 4 little girls, can you imagine? A household of girls, girl things, and girl feelings, handled quite gracefully. All we ever really set aside was his own bathroom and a boy dog. Other than that, his devotion in life was to raise four daughters to adulthood, motherhood, godliness.
And now? We are watching you, dad. We are watching your kind eyes handle uncertainty with your typical steady resolve. We are watching you so that you won’t fall. We are flying in and calling and coming over so that we can see you smile that funny grin you have and giggle at the kitchen table with you and laugh together at all the funny family things that no one but the 6 of us know.
The other night I told you that mom loves you , and you said: ” I love her more”.
I love you more, too.