<div style="font-size:10pt;font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;color:black;"><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Another in a series of memories aboutt the father. Very nice. </span></u></b></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">It is a fair rendition , including the good and bad. </span></u></b></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">But mostly the bad. The descriptions of his memory loss is
heartbreaking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></u></b></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I love it.</span></u></b><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Like each sip of a fine
wine, I savor every second with my 95-year-old Dad. Minute by minute, we create
new memories from the precious few moments that remain. Every word Dad utters,
a simple “Oh, hi” or “Look” is invaluable because the remaining words are so
few. I cling to each lonely syllable. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This sentence is confusing.</u></b></span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I don’t want to forget when
Dad, the consummate Patriarch, was in charge. He’d proclaim, “Sit down over
there” or “Go find your mother.” when there were still complete sentences. As
an Air Force officer and chemistry professor, Dad’s vocabulary was abundant
while I was growing up, but the most recent coherent conversation I recall
having with my father was about three years ago. He was 92. Mom was still
living. Dad was worried about who would take care of “his wife” after he died.
I reminded Dad that he had worked hard all his life to provide security for Mom
and his children; that he needn’t worry about a thing. My words seemed to
reassure him.</span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I witnessed Dad’s confusion
that Father’s Day; he recognized his children but not his grandchildren; he
toasted his sons and sons-in-law but later had to be reminded that he was a
father, too. </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">My first glimpse at Dad’s
failing mind occurred during a family dinner when we were talking about our
annual holiday ski trip. My father had skied downhill for nearly half a
century. For 20 years, he sponsored a team of family members to compete in our
annual benefit race for visually impaired and blind skiers. Two of Dad’s four
daughter <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>s </u></b>, including me,
were born with a genetic eye disease which causes progressive vision loss. Mom
and Dad were among our biggest supporters, but at age 91, Dad couldn’t remember
ever participating in the benefit race - even after detailed reminders. Was it
jet lag? Mom and Dad had recently returned from travel abroad.</span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“It’s like I went to <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">England</st1:place></st1:country-region> and
came back without a memory,” Dad commented to me privately. The realization
that he couldn’t remember our annual event shocked us both. </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Dad started struggling to
find words at about the same time. Then, Mom passed unexpectedly ahead of him.
After that, my father’s vascular dementia seemed to accelerate and his
connection to the present began to blur at the edges. A lifetime of brilliant
colors mixed and muted in his mind like the setting sun. His memories of Mom
and his children are now forever locked away.</span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>Such a beautiful turn of words, he last<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>few lines.</u></b></span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I cherish my own memories
of talks with Dad, although I was in high school by the time we formed a truly
personal connection. Naturally, my most vivid childhood memories are of playing
with my siblings or neighbor children, favorite clothes, climbing trees, and
sneaking lunchbox desserts after dinner; Mom cooked and cleaned at the fringes.
Dad was “there,” in the tradition of many dads at the time, I suppose. He left for
work before breakfast, arrive home in time to watch the evening news before
dinner, and then retire to his office to correct papers or “do” what Air Force
officers do when he wasn’t TDY. A typical child, I was oblivious to how bills
were paid or how my new school shoes were purchased each year.</span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">What is TDY?</span></u></b><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Perhaps my earliest memory
of my father was one of my earliest memories in my own life. I was looking out
the back window of our black Rambler as <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">New
Mexico</st1:place></st1:state> faded into the horizon and we headed for the
Colorado Rockies. I was four. I imagine my father was driving the car, moving
his wife and five children (one more would arrive in <st1:state w:st="on">Colorado</st1:state>)
to his newest assignment at the Air Force Academy near <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Colorado Springs</st1:place></st1:city>. </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Honestly, I don’t remember
Dad being relevant to my life until I began lurking about him, attempting to
earn an allowance as an adolescent. My father came to understand his parenting
role late in the game. Mom paid the price when Dad was the emotionally-absent
father of six unruly children, but he redeemed himself as we got old enough to
hike, backpack, and ski.</span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Perhaps because I came of
age in the 1970s at the same time my father retired from his military career,
Dad favored me. He didn’t “play” favorites but, for whatever reason, he confided
in me, although I was the fourth of his six children. </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">At age 16, Dad approached
me in the privacy of my bedroom with a question. He wanted to know my opinion
of how my brothers and sisters would feel if he and Mom divorced. Honestly,
there was so much fighting in our house at the time that I told him it might be
the best thing if he moved out. I didn’t beg him to stay. Mom and Dad didn’t
have the perfect marriage, but it turned out they held on for nearly 70 years
despite my advice. </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">When I was a young adult,
Dad appointed me to be his #2 P.O.A., the successor to his eldest son. This
placed me in a position of confidence above two of my older siblings, an
awkward honor.</span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>What is POA?</u></b></span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Dad once collapsed into my
arms after our family rescued our oldest sister and her sons from an abusive
family situation. As I supported Dad, I felt the weight he had carried in his
role as the get-away driver.</span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>I want to hear about that one.</u></b></span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">That’s only one example of
how Dad has been there for his children and grandchildren any time we’ve needed
a helping hand. He forgets, but I remember. If ever I forget, I pray that my
daughters will remember</span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"># # #</span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 1em 0in;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">
</font><p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">_______________________________________________<br>
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