When my father died, you left a voice mail and I could hear you crying.
When my child was born, you gave us your son’s shoes which he never got to wear.
When my birthday came around, you did not send a gift but you marked it on your calendar as if it meant Christmas to you.
When I passed my PhD dissertation on statistical deviations, you bought me Dr Seuss’s book on the places we can go.
When I cooked you breakfast when you were sick, you ordered me champagne and you asprin.
When I retired, you sent me your resume asking to be secretary to my school of wisdom.
When our team lost the Superball, you dusted off the golf clubs because you said losing was now fashionable and we golfed 7 holes and lost 10 balls, drank three dozen beers and you promised me If we won a superball, we would finish the round.
When my family got into an argument with me over poltiics, You sent you an “I like Ike” poster.
When we met after 5 years, you said how well I looked and that I had lost weight. You were the only one not to mention my illness.
When we got flooded, you called me Noah and a gave me Olive tree in a pot. You said the doves got away.
When I cried seeing my son’s movie making the audience cry, you grabbed a box of kleenex but instead of wiping my tears, you crushed them into paper snow balls to throw at me.
When we were snowed in for days on ski trip, you called from Florida and took the phone down to the beach so we could hear the waves and a swell almost came and knocked it out of your hands. We never laughed so hard.
When we arrived late and exhausted into Baltimore, and knew that there was no public transport, you drove past the arrivals lane and beeped the horn at us and we thought, ‘another crazy driver let loose on the road.’ We were so glad you were that crazy driver. crazy to stay up so late, crazy to know that we would be stranded, crazy enough to make sure we got home.
