Life is good.

It's been almost 7 weeks now without my wife here at home, she has been helping our daughter in another state with her second child birth. I have been missing her, especially when I come home and the house is so quiet and no aroma of dinner coming from the kitchen. I had been so used to just coming home and giving her a big hug and kiss, and then almost immediately sitting down to a nice meal and relaxing. We would have a short conversation about the day and then I would dose off for a short nap on the sofa. The TV was always on and she would usually be working on a new craft project. I took for granite how nice it was to have a warm welcoming home each evening.

"Even so"

The bachelor life is not that bad as long as it is only temporary. I welcomed the alone time at first: I could almost forget about the family obligations and just think and do what I wanted to. I went out and bought some of my favorite snack foods,worked on a couple of projects that I had been putting off, watched some movies and napped a lot. But as the days went by the dishes were piling up, dirty clothes by the laundry, and the yard needed mowed. Reality was setting in and I needed to do some housework.

I am so thankful for my daughter who lives here in town. She calls me often to see how I am doing, and if there is anything I need. Several times she has brought me pre-cooked dinner, so I have been well taken care of.

Two weeks ago I received airline tickets from my daughter and son in-law to come and spend the weekend with my wife, it was a surprise for her, and a thank you for all the help she has been. The visit was short, but worth it. My wife is still there , and will be as long as she is needed.

This is what simply living is all about; It's doing what needs to be done each day.

My Dad

I was thinking about my dad so I would like to share a few thoughts about him and our time together.
I hesitate to write about my dad because I know and remember so little about him. He was adopted soon after he was born and raised in a very strict home in Nebraska, that is what I discovered later. He had a darker completion and black hair,  He loved gymnastics and was very physically fit. He was also a very hansom young man who like the girls and drinking alcohol.
Dad was serving  in the army when I was born and was not discharged until I was 4 years old.
My first memory was around Christmas when he took me to town to buy some presents while mom stayed home with my baby brother. We bought a few things, and was waiting for the bus outside the bar. He wanted to have a beer before the bus came so he started drinking one after another until all of his money was gone,even the bus fare.I was scared but he said we could walk. It was a long walk home, and so cold. I sat on his shoulders most of the way and when we got home my legs and arms were white from frost bite. Sixty years later and I still remember the sting when they put my hands and feet in a bucket of cold water.
My dad was addicted to alcohol and he used it as an escape for dealing with everything especially authority or conflict of any kind.. He could not pass by a bar if he had $1.00 in his pocket.
My last near tragic memory was a ride in the country one afternoon, again on our way home we stopped in a small town bar. I think there was four of us kids riding in the car and we were heading home when dad turned where he thought the bridge was, instead it was a fishing access and he drove right into the river. He managed to get us out and onto the bank safely. Then a farmer down the road saw us and called the sheriff, who came and took us home. The sheriff then took dad off to jail again.
There was several outings with my dad where it was near tragedy for me and my brothers and sisters, because of the bars and him spending all of his money on drinks. His thirst for alcohol was one thing that he could not control. Time after time he would come home from rehab and start right back up drinking. Unable to keep a steady job he was gone from home a lot looking for work, then he would come home long enough to get mom pregnant and back out looking for a new job again. After the eighth child they got a separation and I never saw my dad again.
I was 22 years old and in the army overseas when I heard that my dad was killed by a hit and run driver as he was crossing the street from the bar. Until that time I hated my dad and swore that when I got out of the army that I was going to make him pay for what he did to our family.I wanted to beat him so bad that he would be permanently disabled or kill him. I am thankful to God now that never happened.

In his few sober days my dad was fun and loved gymnastic. we would wrestle and tumble around the house or yard. Those memories are the good ones and are far and few in between the years. I am thankful that I had a dad that I could learn from his mistakes and change my life for the better. I have forgiven my dad and believe God has too and one day I will see him again. Unwittingly dad taught me some hard lessons which has helped me to simply live life each day.