This is the last day of my so called vacation. I was suppose to get married last Monday, but certain circumstances prevented the event. My Dad developed congestive heart failure and was taken into the hospital Friday a week ago. He will be 84 on his next birthday.
It was a very tense three days, and then, by a miracle, he was able to sit up and eat a full breakfast of mush foods on Monday! His first steps on the road to recovery.
I have five brothers and sisters. I am the oldest. Peggy is the youngest. On Sunday night, the evening before he ate for the first time in three days, she held his had and repeatedly asked him if he knew who she was. He didn't. Finally she gave up and as she left, she told him she loved him. "Do you love me Dad?". He shook his head and looked stern. This really upset her and she tried again, "I love you Dad, please tell me you love me!". He motioned her closer to him, and she leaned towards him. "I have a wonderful wife", he explained to her, "We both come from Irish backgrounds".
I spent the night with Dad that night and when Peggy came back that morning I told her that Dad had no desire to see the husband-stealing blond wench who was in the room the night before!