Wade

Todays my dad's birthday. He would have been 90 years old. He only made it to 88. I have his picture above my computer. I still having trouble remembering him from the days before Alzheimer's took him slowly away. I can see him with his head leaning back in one of his big laughs. I can see him when he looked at me wondering who I was.

Today, on TV, they had a news story on Alzheimer's and how they will soon have a breakthrough. Every time I forget something, dread fills my heart. I'm sure, well at least I hope I'm sure that its just the normal aging for a women that has too much on her plate. Mom, artist, wife, tennis player, volunteer, clown, taxi driver!

I want to remember first my dad for his whisker rubs, and shoulder rides, for letting me drive his car when I was just 13. I want to remember first sitting at the local bar and drinking root beer with the drunks as my dad stood behind the counter. I want to remember first riding my bike to the car garage where he worked and watched in amazement as he worked on cars, and later his same enthusiasm as he grew orchids.

That's what I want to remember first. My dad.