Once again I am foregoing the usual and customary health care article in honor of parents.  This is purely a dedication to my deceased father who instilled an attitude of patient observation.  What’s the hurry.  Let’s look at the big picture and consider a situation from all perspectives.   

 

Inspired by Dad, I read an entire book one day when I was in sixth grade.  It was an unusually quiet Sunday, the house was empty except for the two of us, and he was reading in his favorite chair in the living room.  I decided to do the same.  It was that day that I really felt what it’s like to become fully drawn into the world of a book from beginning to end in one sitting.  My favorite picture is of the two of us asleep in that chair.  It is framed and sitting on my bookshelf.

 

There have been many times when I have called on him for help even after his death in 1988, thirty three years ago.  Since I had turned nineteen two weeks after he died, I had already given him the job of watching over me as I moved to a new city.  Shortly after moving to a place where I didn’t know a single person, it turned out that I was waiting at a bus stop after service had ended for the evening.  The street was empty and quiet when a man on a motorcycle stopped at the light. He slowly drove over to me and said the busses were no longer running and offered to drive me home.  As I weighed the precarious position of choosing to take a ride from a stranger or walking alone for hours, he offered me his helmet.  I decided to accept his offer of help.  The man drove the motorcycle in the same manner my Dad always did, slow and in control.  I thanked him and never saw the driver again.  That was just the first of many unmistakeable times when Dad showed up.  

 

Dad was the embodiment of a Sunday driver.  The eight of us would pile into the station wagon and go to our favorite place for ice cream.  We could smell the cows as we got  closer to Woodson’s Dairy.  I remember there was a full moon one night on our way home.  I was so little I thought the moon was following us home as we drove.  Like all things, these outings came to an end along with all the over-sized vehicles like station wagons, Suburbans, and yes even a hearse.  He eventually bought a motorcycle and could finally take a ride by himself or just one other person.  I’d like to wish you the same “take it easy” type of attitude that my Dad instilled…  Enjoy the scenary.  Enjoy the ride.