Getting his bags packed.

This evening when I spoke to my mom on the phone, she provided another spark of humor that my dad distributed to the nurse at the hospice. Dad told her clearly that he was getting his bags packed for a trip and then became silent again. I wonder what dad must be packing for this trip when he leaves earth. For one would need an awful lot of stuff for such a long time.

Dad has lived a simple life and would not want a lot of fluff and flavor paid to him.
When I chatted with mom tonight, she recalled of the joys of the lobster party being crowded in the tent and how dad ate 10 shrimp appetizers, ate the lobsters and sucked out the meat from the claws and even ate his corn and my mom's corn on the cob. He had an appetite at his last big party and he always did when we ate at the table.

So no more big meals with dad at the table but have done so for many years. Only wish that I treasured them more. I should cherish times spent with friends more and I pray these words will help others establish a close bond to their loved ones as well.


At least no weight restriction on baggage. Probably wants to make sure he has enough underwear in case the laundry facilities get very busy in heaven.

Dad makes a mean bowl of oatmeal which is what I had most mornings before heading off to school. I remember him stirring the pot with the wooden spoon and tapping it on the side of the pan. And placing the spoon on the white side plate.