Went to Salem last week for Lindsay's orientation at WOU. The date she leaves for school is hurdling toward us and there is no way to stop it. After seeing her walking around the campus and interacting with the other kids, I am excited for her to start her life in Oregon. The joy in her eyes and voice after the day had ended was so wonderful.
At the other end of the spectrum is the impending end of my dad's journey through life. His health is steadily declining and his quality of life has eroded to the point where I just feel so pained and sorry for him. His days are spent sleeping and waiting for the clock to strike 11 and 5 - signaling meal time. Five o'clock is also special to dad because that's the time mom comes into see him and eat dinner with him. As he lay in bed, struggling to draw oxygen into his crippled lungs, his eyes twinkled when mom walked into room. It was touching, heartbreaking and a memory I will cherish forever.
As I left the care facility, every memory of dad flashed through my mind like a slide show. Michigan, our house on Sherman Road, his groovy black-rimmed glasses, his crazy, unorthodox 1970s golf swing, central Michigan, his stern way when it came to grades, summer vacations, winter time, driving to grandma Brumm's house, mom and dad's bridge parties, Farm Bureau events, 1977 - the year we moved to Oregon, our first house in West Salem, their dream home at Illahe, my countless rounds of golf at Illahe, central Oregon vacations - the last round of golf I played with dad at Eagle Crest Golf Course in 2000. That's the day I realized his life was no longer going to be the same. Mine, either, it turns out. Even though golfing with dad could be frustrating because of all his mulligan rules, he was always ready and willing to go play when asked. After 2000, when they came down to San Diego for the winter, there would be no golf.
Not only had smoking robbed dad of the biggest joy in his life (besides mom), it had robbed me of a winter golf partner who was as competitive as they come and wanted to win, badly, everytime he tee'd it up. Friggin' cigarettes!!