My Hero

So, I have always been a Daddy's girl.  My first childhood memory is when I was about 4.  I had a bad dream.  I dreamed my family died and I must have woken up crying.  I remember my dad coming into my room and telling me it would be a long time before any of us died.  I've always thought he was the smartest person I knew.  Now I'm seeing another side.

I spoke briefly about how emotional he got when we were playing the memory game on vacation.  He talked about the night he first met my mother.  It sounded so typical of her.  She was wearing a red dress on New Year's Eve.  Always the center of attention.  He has always been a very stoic person, not showing much emotion.  I have always tried to emulate him in that respect.  Yet here he was tearing up over those memories.  All vacation he was very protective.  Even the debacle with the cave trip.  I think his intention was that mom not feel left out or like she couldn't do it.

Does that kind of love even still exist.  I remember at the nursing home when I first got out of college.  There was a woman in her 50's.  She had multiple sclerosis and used a motorized wheel chair.  Her husband had divorced her when she began needing more help.  My cousin too.  She also has multiple sclerosis and her husband left her.  Now my 80+ aunt cares for her.  That is what love is like now I'm afraid.  For better or at least until it becomes inconvenient for me.

The flip side is that I worry that my dad will be so stubborn and try to care for mom all by himself to his own detriment.  I have made the offer for them to come live with me and I have the space.  I just know how fiercely independent (and stubborn) my father is.  And I guess I also admire him for that.  He has faced so many challenges in life and persisted in overcoming them.  He is and will continue to be my hero.