A few years ago, when my dad was first diagnosed with Alzheimers, Amy and I spent Thursdays visiting him. On one such Thursday, I took my dad to a little bookstore on main street in the town where my parents live. I showed him some books that I love, and I read a passage out of East of Eden by John Steinbeck (the part where they talk about the Jewish scholars all trying to decipher Genesis and Cain and how we have the freedom to choose our paths). My dad decided he wanted the book, and even though I knew he probably wouldn't be able to read it, I still bought it for him.
Last year, my mom brought the book up to me when she and my dad came to see Thomas play in a soccer game. I don't know if he remembered the book, or if he tried to read it, but she wanted to let me have it (I was grateful for her thoughtfulness!) Before I took it, I had my dad sign his name in the front. "Don", written in red ink, underlined and in handwriting that still seems so familiar, adorns the inside cover of my copy of East of Eden. I love that I have this book, and this little momento of my dad. That signature means so much to me, more than any letter he could write. I have his name.
I am grateful for my dad. I miss him more than I can say.
With my boys, shortly after he was diagnosed.
2 comments:
Thank you for sharing your special dad with us! The picture is so sweet!
Kelli
What a great idea to have him write his name in it. I miss him, too.
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