The Mind's Eye

Sometimes there's no photograph to document the moment but the memory remains so brilliant that it burns into the mind's eye forever. That's what happened to me on Christmas Day when I hiked "through the woods" to get to the snowed in Pearly Jones family home to see Dad in the late afternoon.

He had said over the phone, "Don't worry about me; I'm fine right where I am and all is well. I'll see you when the weather is better. Don't risk getting over here."

But, see him I did and am glad of it. I so wish I'd had my camera but in some ways remembering is all the more sweet for lack of a visual reminder archived away in my photo collection or shown on this blog post.

My 91 year old father was sitting in the family room next to "John", one of his housemates. They were watching TV while the others were gathered around the kitchen table drinking tea and eating cookies. He wasn't expecting me to show up and in the waning light of a snowy, chilly day his face lit up when he saw me walk through the door; it was almost like he didn't recognize me at first. But then...., he did. He was dressed in a button down white shirt and his red vest looking dapper and festive and decidedly well. I'll never, ever forget that image, his smile and the joy on his face.

"Merry Christmas, Dad", I said.
"Oh my", he said. "It's Kitty Kat."

And we went on from there. The moments were magic. Treasured. His and mine. Together.

This may have been the sweetest moment of the most unusual Christmas Day I've ever lived.