thanksgiving

We gathered at the house for Thanksgiving that year. My brother and his wife picked up Dad from the convalescent home where he had been recovering from a UTI the past couple of weeks. My future wife and I had volunteered to construct a ramp from an old door for some impromptu wheelchair access.

The little great granddaughter got excited about playing on the ramp and so she did.

When my brother got there they were half worn out already. Dad was in his late 80s and limp as a wet noodle. There were times when he could do therapy but certainly not today. I helped get him up the ramp and into his chair and it was like juggling several bags of sand connected by ropes.

Mom got distracted and burned the gravy base. Then, she started all over.

My SIL had left her coat at the home and so we volunteer to go get it, least we can do, it was still on the chair under the canopy.

So we blessed the meal and filled up plates, and found out they had fed him lunch at the home despite instructions not to. I had some gravy and it was the best ever.

At one point I sat with the great grandson and asked if he had a girlfriend.

"Yeah"

I follow, "is she any good?" Naturally this draws fire from my future wife.

Mom hovers over Dad to try to catch what he's trying to say, barely over a whisper. Basically he wants to go back to his bed at the home. Hard to admit how peaceful he seems there when we visit, then he realizes you're there and greets you. She goes back to her chair, and I'm on the couch like we sat so many times over the years. Mom says,

"Mike, this is your future."

I realize it is probably the last time we will get to all sit there like that.

Out in the yard we play some kind of ball with the kids.

By the time we loaded him up to take back to the home, Dad had rested some and come around, he waved to the little kids from the car.

2 weeks and a day later I get the call from my brother. Dad had passed peacefully around midnight.

Thanksgiving had been the right thing to do.