My daddy finally arrived after a month of meticulous planning. At ninety-five, bringing just the right personal belongings was paramount. There was the hospital bed, wheelchair, walker, cane, prescription drugs to keep him awake and to help him sleep the special diet, and a few clothes.
Later in the evening, after a five-hour nap, he woke hungry for my home cooking. I found this flattering but humorous. I’m a lousy cook. After my mother passed away eight years ago, it’s been my father and the […]