My father recently passed on during his sleep. This will be the first holiday season without him. I’m thinking of the last moments I spent with him in early September. He wasn’t really able to converse very much since a stroke impeded his speech. When he did speak I couldn’t really understand him. We’d make jokes and tease him, he always laughed and kept his sense of humor. My mother, of course, could always interpret what he was saying, but basically, it wasn’t really that important to always speak.
All I had to do was to sit and watch a few innings of baseball with him, cheer when the Giants made a good play and boo when the other teams scored. I might peel him some fruit and we’d both share a bite. These simple things made my father very happy.
My mother’s favorite pastime is doing jigsaw puzzles. I would then go over and sit with her to help with the puzzle, which in this case was a picture of nothing but an open bag of potato chips. We’d sit for hours working a puzzle. This simple little activity would always make it easier for my mother to begin talking about her hopes and fears, mostly concerning my father.
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