Sunday, May 2, 2010
Every year my dad would calmly retort, "That's right. It's better than the alternative."
I always took this to mean that it was better than being dead. Which we agreed with but called him "old" anyway. And when we were indestructible teenagers we figured he was wrong...who would WANT to be old?
Back then I thought my dad was saying it was better than HIM being dead. That HE could have it a lot worse.
Now I know better. Being dead for HIM would mean everlasting life--I mean, that is what we believe. However him being old is a FAR better alternative for US--his family--than being dead because it means that year after year we still have my funny old dad--Eddie's funny old Grandpa.
We get to sing to a guy who would rather have a cream puff than a cake.
A guy whose favorite birthday gift (next to the new compound bow my mom got him) is the little fishing lure from his littlest grandson.
A guy who will patiently push his oldest grandson in the swing and have little "chats".
A guy who STILL calls me his "number one daughter" even though we BOTH know I am his only daughter.
A guy who is 60. Sixty and still taking longer walks than any of us put together.
And that, my friends, is something to clap about!