Well, back to work tonight...
Steven and Dan are in Ohio for (what else ; ) ) a wrestling tournament today, so I get a day with my big guy.
Due to injuries, he has been moved up in weight classes to fill in a hole in the roster. He can finally eat now, and is enjoying eating a great deal. I hope to take him out to lunch today before I have to go to work.
Still cold -- it is zero right now. Brrrrrr.

 

And for those of you who have asked, here is a bit about my father's death, what I had said to John last night...(feels weird quoting myself )
Quote:
On the day he died, my father was very weak, but when my sister went to visit him, he asked for a reading from the book of Matthew, and wanted to listen to some gospel music on the little CD player in his room. He then asked to see the pictures of all of his daughters and grandchildren, and smiled at them all, then went to sleep. The rehab center called her later and said he was passing, so she hurried out there, and when she came into the room he didn't say anything, but he clearly recognized her and gave her a smile, then he slipped into unconciousness and then slipped away. So he wasn't alone, which was my greatest fear for him. When he had cancer surgery a few years ago and I flew down for him, he was terrified of death. Apparently he had made peace with death and God and with himself, and was ready for it now. And the last act of his life was to smile.
The little town where he died was beautiful. It is called Westmoreland, TN, near the border with Kentucky, and in a very hilly area. It was sprinkling snow yesterday morning, and the drive there from my sister's house in Gallatin was lovely. There were rolling hills and horse farms, cliffs, creeks, and even a waterfall or two. It made me feel better to know that what he saw on his last journey would have pleased him so much, as he loved nature so.



My father was a good man, who spent his life in service of others. He was born in 1922 in the backmost hills of West Virginia, in the hollers of Panther Creek in McDowell County. His father's first wife had died, and his mother was his father's second wife. That first marriage had three sons, and the second produced eight children, of whom my father was the second oldest. When my father was still young, his father died of tuberculosis and inflammation of his brain. All of the children had to drop out of school to work odd jobs and try to support the large family. A lot of the weight of that fell on him and his oldest full brother. One of the little ones actually died of hunger during the Depression. My father always felt partially responsible for that, and often dreamed of a child crying from hunger. When World War 2 broke out, my father and his two surviving brothers and one of the half brothers all joined up, sending their paychecks home to support the family. My father served in the Army Air Force, and saw fighting in Northern Africa and Italy. When the War was over he came home to West Virginia.
The GI bill allowed him to return to school. Of all of the things in his life, he was most proud of making up grades 3-12 in one year, then being admitted to college. He graduated with honors from Concord College in Athens, West Virginia, where he met and married my mother.
He taught school in West Virginia for a few years, but he could not make a living at it down there, and always had to work a second job. So in the late 1950's he moved up to Michigan, with my mother and three older sisters. He worked at Lake Orion Public Schools until he retired in the 1980's.
My mother became mentally ill about the time I was born in the mid 1960's, and she became a very manipulative and abusive person. Since my sisters were so much older than I was, the brunt of this fell upon my father and I. Though his life was unspeakably difficult, he stayed with my mother and took care of her, depite her abuse, paranoia, and hatred until she died two springs ago. He never blamed her, knowing that she was ill, and quietly took care of her for all of those years, always faithful and loyal to her.
He went through many things in his life. He survived the Great Depression and WW2. He survived hepatitus and cancer. He survived emotional abuse most people could not imagine, and faced it with grace and forgiveness. But he lost heart after my mother's death, and never really got over it. They had been married for over 50 years.
He was such a good man. I got my love of nature and books and music fromhim. Family was so important to him, and he loved us all so much! I know that after having to endure so much in his life that he is now at peace, and he is happy, and he is being healed from all of his trials and hurts. I will always love him, and always be proud that he was my father.