We went to visit my mom and dad last night after dinner. While we were there, Dad’s best friend called. He grew up with Chuck, they were neighbors and they went all through school together and started college together but my dad transferred out to Ohio State. Then they were both in the Navy, though not together. Chuck lives in California now but, like all my parents’ friends, he checks in regularly and is completely broken up, not to say consumed, with my dad’s illness. I answered the phone last night when he called and we talked a little about Japan. He told me some stories about his adventures with my dad in Japan while they were in the Navy and then a little story about college when they got in trouble and were called in to the Dean’s office. Not too many details, because I think even Chuck thinks that Dad will get better and share these stories with us himself.

So I said to my dad, “Chuck told me a story about when you were in college and you both got in trouble and had to go talk to the Dean. What’d you do, Dad?”
And he just smiled. I could so tell that he was remembering that and it made him happy.
Of course, it made me happy, too, but then on the way home, heading out the driveway, down our old country road, past the barns and fields and trees and over the creek, it made me sad…