Father’s Day was somewhat exhausting and somewhat bittersweet. I gave my father the letter after church on Saturday evening and he loved it……but he also kept thinking I was his sister Mary Ellen. Mom corrected him gently and then he thought I was his sister Ann. He was talking about sending them dolls when he was in the Navy in WWII. Then he would look at me and smile and say, “we’re the last two left.” He and his sister Mary Ellen are the last of the family of six brothers and sisters. This is the first time anything like that has happened and frankly it broke my heart.
The next day we were over there however and he was just fine and he told me how much he loved the letter. I’m glad I wrote it and glad that I did it now. Who knows how fast things are going to change.
Leo thought the picture of Grandpa in the wheelbarrow was hysterical—I don’t think Owen can quite bring himself to believe that is really Grandpa. One day when we were over there at my folks getting ready to leave Owen looked at his grandparents, and then at me, and asked, “where they like this when you got them?” I asked him what he meant and finally he said, “where they old like this when you got them?”. I said, “you mean where they old when I was a little girl?” and he delightedlly nodded his head. I said “no, they were younger when I was a little girl” but almost laughed until I cried. Owen is right—life is puzzling.