I sat in a hospital room with my father today. As I looked at him frail and weak, I couldn’t help but think how this person wasn’t daddy.
It was, of course, but my memories are of a strong, full of life career Navy man. His flat top and straight posture always in attendance. His quick wit and teasing as much a part of him as an arm or a leg. His palms are so wide and the strength of his hands legendary in our family. I have his shaped hands, much smaller but the same wide palm.
I watched as he clutched the blanket, pulling it higher towards his neck to fend off the cold from the AC unit. His mouth was moving in his sleep as though he were talking with someone — pursing then relaxing, pursing then relaxing.
A flood of memories hit me in that time in the hospital room. Memories I don’t want to forget. Tonight I will be writing them down, one by one. I thought this was a great opportunity for a prompt.
Write about you or someone you love being in the hospital. What you thought and said and did; if you were scared or was it a happy occasion (birth of a child or grandchild). Re-live that memory and write it down.
P.S. – Daddy was rushed to the hospital the other night with pneumonia. He is doing better and can, hopefully, come home later this week.