It seems my Dad has taken over the role of "elder worrier" although he has his own unique touch.
The other night we chatted on the phone and he, aware of the treacherous weather, said, "I'll pray for your safety tomorrow [driving to work]." Unlike my Mom who'd always finish her call with an admonishment to "call me when you get home", Dad's voice cracked with emotion. Hearing his concern made me feel at once sad and touched. So sweet, Dad.
When I called him yesterday to let him know that I was safe and sound, out of harm's way and inside for the rest of the day, the relief in his voice was palpable. "I'm so glad to hear you voice, sweetheart."
So sweet, Dad.
Round two today with more rugged weather and another phone call to Dad. One of his caregivers answered his phone and shared with me that Dad had been asking about me, "about 5 times". So sweet Dad.
I'm home, Dad. We'll catch up again tomorrow.
Ditto with Daddy! He waits for me to call him wherever I have left him to go back home. In the winter it is a 2 1/2 hour trip betwen Lake Havasu City, AZ and Las Vegas, in summer a 4 hour trip from Munds Park, AZ. I call him before I leave Vegas and I know he'll be sitting there looking out the window waiting for me. In the summer when I'm headed to Munds Park, he'll be sitting there on his porch watching for me as I turn the corner on his street.
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