Punched in the Heart
Whoosh! Right there in the Target parking lot. Unlocked my car trunk and saw a plastic basket filled with clothes and a bag with toothpaste, lotion… stuff my dad used at the nursing home. My brother put them there over two months ago, on the day Dad died.
I haven’t opened my trunk in that long. Something, huh? My brother took over grocery shopping, because of my angina, and, well, I’ve barely needed my car, let alone had a reason to load it up. But yesterday I checked to see if my yoga mat was where I left it the last time I took classes, a couple of years ago. Because it’s about time I did something, you know? I have the time now, don’t I? Doesn’t matter when I leave the house. So, yoga. Why not?
And there was Dad’s stuff. Really, really his stuff. A favorite pair of brown sweatpants, an olive-green vest that one of us kids gave him. Warm, and rugged-looking, you know? That’s the kind of thing Dad liked to wear, even though he hadn’t hiked in the mountains for twenty years. Maybe thirty.
It’s true that knees get weak when you’re hit like that. Mine did. That damn nursing home. I didn’t want him to die there! He was supposed to depart from home, like Mom did.
The stuff is still in the trunk. My brother will get it.
I took the yoga class this morning. Wasn’t sure I’d go through with it until I actually left the house. I was late, but I took it. Dad would be pleased. Hell, I’m pleased. That’s all right, then, I guess.
Whoosh! Right there in the Target parking lot. Unlocked my car trunk and saw a plastic basket filled with clothes and a bag with toothpaste, lotion… stuff my dad used at the nursing home. My brother put them there over two months ago, on the day Dad died.
I haven’t opened my trunk in that long. Something, huh? My brother took over grocery shopping, because of my angina, and, well, I’ve barely needed my car, let alone had a reason to load it up. But yesterday I checked to see if my yoga mat was where I left it the last time I took classes, a couple of years ago. Because it’s about time I did something, you know? I have the time now, don’t I? Doesn’t matter when I leave the house. So, yoga. Why not?
And there was Dad’s stuff. Really, really his stuff. A favorite pair of brown sweatpants, an olive-green vest that one of us kids gave him. Warm, and rugged-looking, you know? That’s the kind of thing Dad liked to wear, even though he hadn’t hiked in the mountains for twenty years. Maybe thirty.
It’s true that knees get weak when you’re hit like that. Mine did. That damn nursing home. I didn’t want him to die there! He was supposed to depart from home, like Mom did.
The stuff is still in the trunk. My brother will get it.
I took the yoga class this morning. Wasn’t sure I’d go through with it until I actually left the house. I was late, but I took it. Dad would be pleased. Hell, I’m pleased. That’s all right, then, I guess.
