Best Laid Plans

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December 23,2025, Plano- My plan was to stay the morning at the house, then head over to the hospital. That evaporated in ten seconds, when the workman uttered a simple phrase: “This’ll be an all day job.” “This” was the reason I was staying here-preparation for replacement of the home’s insulation. That means removing all old insulation, which, I noticed takes eight hours. I will say that I, being the resident who house sat, had the better deal, compared to the workman who spent his day in the attic. I turned off the heat, but at 73F outside, he has to get some enjoyment out of this line of work, to endure eight hours (minus a 20-minute lunch break) in a cramped space.

I was also considering heading to the hospital tomorrow morning-until the same guy mentioned he would infuse the house with new insulation, bright and early. Well, it may be warm outside now, but winter is sure to come and we don’t want to put the basic necessities off, just for the holiday. Hana, for one, does not seem to like being cold. She expresses her sentiments quite well, when her swaddle is being changed.Once she’s clad again, all is well.

I managed to get some constructive work done today: Filling three yard bags with leaves, unpacking all the boxes from last weekend’s jaunt and setting up my clothes closet, then running necessaries out to the hospital, after the workers left for the day. Sometimes, the best laid plans give way to even better things. I ended the day by rocking Hana for about fifteen minutes, and she was content.

He Did So

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June 22, 2023-The night I came home, inebriated after a party at work, Mother was waiting in the dark. She asked me what time I thought it was, and after my saying it was Midnight, I learned it was 2 a.m. Dad, as it happened was down cellar, doing some work, and came when called. I had already gotten a “Pow in the kisser” by the time he got upstairs. He told me what he thought of me, and it wasn’t anything complimentary, but it wasn’t profane, either.

I think my father stopped using corporal punishment when I was about eight, and even before that, I only remember him spanking me once. As for telling us what he wanted done, it was mainly by force of example. When I was expected to be out in the yard, shoveling dirt or putting rocks in the wheelbarrow, and dumping them along the edge of the marsh across the street, he was already outside determining what area was mine to work, what area was Cheryl’s and, after a few years, what area was to be worked by David. Dad always did the heavy lifting, and built the fire underneath the large boulders, then sprayed them with cold water and took the sledge hammer, to break them up.

When a medical emergency came, for one of my siblings, it was he who flew up and down the stairs, throwing items necessary for an overnight stay, into a cloth bag, then carrying the hurting child downstairs and to the car, while I had my arms around Mom and Sis. He took care of all such crises, as best he could-and it was always good enough, in my book.

Dad applied himself to his work, just as much, though his heart was with us, always. His gift of gab let the time get away from him, when out on errands, but he always made up for it to Mom, with a quality night out or an occasional weekend away, as we got older. He would have choked at the term “Date Night”. Dates, for people of my parents’ generation, stopped at the altar. Thenceforth, it was “our night out”, and either Cheryl, one of our cousins or I minded the younger kids.

What he wanted done, he did as an example-and we were never confused as to how to go about it. That all stopped, thirty-seven years ago today. Thankfully, the road maps left for us are still clear. His image and voice are,as well.