Wednesday, February 01, 2017

Rendezvous at the Circle K...

I called my father on his home phone and didn't get an answer. Next was his cell phone and he immediately answered. He was in his car.

"Hey Chuck!" he said with another pleasant tone to his voice which is abnormal. "I am out and about taking care of some legal matters again -- lawyers and such."

"Can we take my medications this afternoon?" I asked extremely apprehensively and timidly.

I am used to getting derided about such matters for the most part. Usually, my father will tell me to wait until nightfall or our normal time.

"Sure!" he replied surprisingly. "I also need gas so we will meet in an hour at the Circle K. You can get one of your tutti fruity drinks you so like to take your medications with."

Dad always keeps some of my medications in his car. Charlie does as well for emergencies.

I told dad I loved him and we got off the phone. He immediately called back with shades of my mother being reminiscent.

"We're forgetting your Cokes and cigars again," he told me laughing and saying I am just like him about such things. "I'll try to run by the house and get them before we meet."

Count your blessings as that is going to be so nice to drink some cold Cokes this afternoon.

One thing that did come out of my mother's death is that my father is a much kinder, gentler, and patient soul.

One Humungous Box of Detergent...

This was just sheer circumstance and coincidence today. The ethos works in weird ways sometimes.

A few years ago, my mother bought me a gigantic box of Gain detergent at Sam's Club which was her inclination to do so. Dad bitched and bitched about it saying that was a $50 box of detergent and that I would never use it all. I used it all today. The empty box is sitting on my stoop ready to be carried to the trashcan.

Well, Charlie just called and asked me if I have enough detergent. I laughed and laughed as I told him the tale of the now depleted box of Gain in my laundry room.

"I've got a whole nother box of Tide with Bleach," I told Charlie. "Thank you, though."

"I am bringing you some some giant packs of toilet paper and paper towels when I get off of work," he told me laughing.

1 comment:

Christina said...

I can tell you miss her. She took care of you so well. I think you were her favorite child :) Even though mother's aren't supposed to have favorites. Keep sharing about her. She was a lovely lady. I believe I miss her as well. :(