This morning I slept in until 4:30 a.m. and my Dad is starting to sleep better after being home from the hospitals too. Although my Dad and I have weathered the storms and hardships we have grown much stronger–independently and as Father and Daughter. My Dad, Dog and I are getting back into our routines: with shorter Public Home Health Nurse, OT and PT visits from Lewis County Health System (hospital), Doctor Appointments and Personal Appointments. We appreciate them helping my Dad , but all of it can be exhausting.

Today is Friday the start to the weekend. First Full Day of Summer. Normally, I would be super happy to successfully finish up teaching at Beaver River Central School and taking more time to relax and do more of my own activities with family, friends and myself. I almost finished this school year, but at the moment, caring for my Dad is my full-time responsibility, now.

The school has been good to me as I returned to teaching there almost seven years ago. I finally feel appreciated, respected and safe working there. If the time and when the time is right, I know I will always be welcomed back. It is good and a healthy environment for me. As for this weekend, we are excited to relax and do more of our own activities.

Dad has always been here for my: older sister, my son, his family, friends, neighbors and I. He will continue to do so until he takes his last breath. My Dad has passed on his love and caring trait to me. I am honored, grateful and blessed to have these gifts and pass them onto my son.

Back to our morning routine today, eating separate breakfasts because I usually eat earlier than Dad. Allowing him to prepare his own breakfast again with some assistance from me, only if needed or he asks for my help. The love is felt deeply throughout our home especially in the kitchen. Everything has slowed down. We both need and feel this even our dog.

My Dad goes back to his front, left room. Years ago maybe it was a living room with the fireplace that is no longer usable. He dozes, listens to the radio, works on a word search and gazes out his windows.

I finish cleaning up the kitchen. While doing these chores– I pause or something will catch my eye out our back bay window like the birds: eating from our feeders, the ground and drinking out of our bird bath. The squirrels and blue jays quickly eat up the peanuts in their shells. In the past, I would get mad at the pigeons coming from the back farm and hogging up the sunflower seeds and pooping all over “everything.” Over the past couple of years the birds, squirrels, rabbits and chipmunks have worked it out to all get along and share something to eat and drink.

The rain then starts and I am happy to see it naturally water our lawn, flowers, trees, and raised beds. I go upstairs and shower and dress for the day. I hear my dog barking downstairs. I use a gentle voice to ease his anxiety and need to protect our home. Could it be a cat passing through our backyard. People and maybe they are walking their dogs out front. Traffic passing or stopping to park out front to walk to the corner convenient store, Slider’s. A neighbor mowing. A funeral at St. Stephen’s Church. Folks going into the bank.

When I descend the stairs, I take my dog out back on his leash attached to the porch rocker swing. Another one of Dad’s handy projects designed for hopefully short bathroom breaks for our dog and us. Normally, he is walked out back in the yard. He starts to bark again, and I look up and spot a man with an old push mower–mowing our lawn. We smile at one another and I am more than grateful for his neighborly love and kindness. It was God’s perfect timing like always.

We go inside and I walk into my Father’s Room. He gives me a puzzled look and without speaking, I tell him our dog is barking because a neighbor or neighborly man is mowing our yard ( even as the rain comes down harder). He takes out his money in his money clip, and before he speaks again, I softly say, “No.” You have done enough these past 11 years that we have lived together here in our Croghan home. During the sometimes long, six months of winter in NNY , Dad would start up his John Deere tractor/snowblower/mower. He worked hard to save up for it for himself, but also my son and I to use someday, if he is not here. After Dad cleared out our driveway; he would do the main sidewalk stripe from Slider’s down to the corner of the Basselin House. Sometimes if the storm or snow was too heavy, or no one cleared a path for people to walk on the sidewalk–he would do the job expecting nothing in returning except maybe a “Thank You.” Some of our good neighbors made us tasty baked goods, gave us local cheeses, may have grabbed a shovel and or used their hand-push snowblowers to assist as the storm continued or later on. We enjoyed the gifts and conversations, but most importantly, Dad appreciated the words of, “Thank You.” Dad asked me to get the gentleman’s name and I said not now, we will see him pass our home while sitting together on our front parch or me walking in the Village of Croghan.

Dad told me they worked hard on his family farm growing up in the Catskills in Stamford, N.Y. on Churchill Road/Mountain. Some of his siblings and him also took outside jobs and still attended the Rural Stamford Public School, played sports, hung out with friends, etc…. Here on the farm, his parents taught him and his siblings to always help a neighbor even if they probably could not afford it. They probably gave with their crops, hands, hearts and inviting friends to their dinner table. There was always enough to share.

I have always carried my Dad’s kind-heart through life and will continue to do so until I pass on to heaven. I am a Giver too. Thank you Dad!

I Love You Very Much! Your Grandson, My Son, also Carry Your Spirit!