Fireside Naps...

More quiet time was had yesterday afternoon. My father was gone all day getting medical tests inflicted upon him, the poor soul. He had triple bypass heart surgery about a decade ago and they were checking his heart and his arteries with an ultrasound and then a stress test on his heart. He came out with flying colors. I was very relieved. I didn't want to hear the word surgery once again.

"Chuck? You can come and get your Cokes and smokes now," my father said over the phone about five in the afternoon.

I was relieved to hear his voice. I got in the car to drive over and Old Fuss and Feathers met me at the door already in his pajamas and housecoat.

Dad got in his recliner and I stretched out on his brown suede leather couch next to the gas heater. We were both quiet and content with the silence. The heater felt wonderful on this very chilly day. Sam was laying on the floor in front of it basking in its warmth. I call it kitty crack and my father laughs. We didn't talk much and I thanked the ethos he didn't turn that raucous and infernal television on. I told my father I had quiet time as well the previous evening.

I dozed off and awoke to a darkened den. My father was asleep in his recliner. It was getting close to 6 PM and darkness was fast encroaching upon the land. I don't like to drive at night in the dark so that was my cue to head on home.

"Call me at 8:30 in the morning to make sure I am up," I told my father as I was stepping out the door.

"That's right! Your injection is in the morning!" dad said excitedly giving me accolades for remembering.

My father wrote himself a note to call me and put it on the kitchen counter next to the toaster oven.