when your father is dying…

A simple man, he goes to the hardware store and buys what he will need to fix his father’s plumbing. He isn’t young anymore. His knees ache at the end of the day, his belly is growing and his hair is thinning and it’s getting harder to hold his liquor. But his father…he’s 93, now, and he’s having a hard time.

How do you tell your father he’s going to have to pee sitting down? The man’s been through WWII, tuberculosis, and raised a big family on one small income. And this simple man now has to find the words to tell his father that he’s an old man, and not so strong as he once was, and maybe he should take it easy, because he’s the pillar of this family and once he’s gone…but the man doesn’t like to think about when he’ll be gone.

So he fixes the plumbing. Even though he hates plumbing. Because this is his father, and a veteran, a fighter. A rock. But, God…how do you tell the rock you built your life on that he’s going to die soon?

You don’t. You fix the plumbing, and you tell him to sit down when he pees because damn it, his aim ain’t so good any more and you love the man but Jeezus, you hate cleaning his bathroom. You tell him you love him, and you make the most of every day, and you keep a grateful heart in your chest for the time you’ve been given.

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