Something in the way he smiled…

January 6, 2015

Tonight, on the way to pick up my son from basketball practice, I found myself thinking about my Dad. Yesterday morning I had glanced at an article about a movie they are making about a woman with early Onset Alzheimers. He died from that, about thirty years ago.

I thought about the freckles all over his back, the records he’d leave scattered all over the dining room table, the way he smelled in the morning, how his voice was better than Paul, or was it John, when he’d sing “Something” in the shower.

I looked up and realized that in the middle of all the remembering, I had absolutely no idea where I was. I had passed the turn, and just kept moving forward, thinking and humming and missing him.

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to get back to where I needed to be . My heart shivered a bit, at the irony of getting lost while remembering the man who had lost his own mind a long, time ago.

But I didn’t have time, I had to be at the high school at 8 o’clock sharp to pick up my son and his friends. It’s cold tonight, low twenties, and sometimes they have to lock the gym up right after practice. Those boys would be standing outside, long legs exposed, they were wearing basketball shorts, and maybe sweatshirts.

I picked up the boys. I delivered them home. I gave Colin dinner and let him use his phone while he ate.

Then I let myself sit down and be scared, really, really, scared. I, the daughter of a man with early Onset Alzheimer’s, had lost my way on a journey I make four times a week.

Then my daughter came downstairs. She wanted me to play a duet with her on our flutes. We began. Sophie, the Lover of Silence, did not want us to play a duet. She wanted to play steal the sock puppet. Colin came in to ask why I hadn’t made him extra pasta. Michael the cat wanted me to let him out. And the fish looked like he wanted something too, but we’re not that close. So he’ll have to figure it out on his own.

Katy’s laughing. Colin is glaring, but he is throwing the sock puppet for Sophie, the Sweet. The fish swims. The dishwasher hums. The moon climbs and the candles burn.

I lit a few candles when I got home tonight.

I hope it’s a little while before I have to go driving alone after dark.

One Response to “Something in the way he smiled…”

  1. Once again, bravo.You’ve brought your life as you lived it, into a life that you’ve feared. Sorry, but you can’t stop the living part, the fear, thats the living. I love you, and don’t ponder on the unknown, explore it. Then write the best crap you’ve ever felt. I’m waiting, .

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