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For my Dad

For my Dad

Once when I was a little child, I woke up in the night with a tummy ache. I got out of bed and went into the living room, following the sounds of the television. My dad was still awake. To me it seemed like my dad never slept, like he was just sitting there in the living room waiting to see if anyone needed help in the dark of night. He was probably just staying up until midnight, but that may as well have been four in the morning in my little girl mind. He waved me over to him. He listened to my plight. And he did a very un-mom-like thing. He suggested we walk around the living room. He told me my tummy would feel better after a little walk. He took my hand and we walked around in small circles on the brown 80s carpet with the black of a country night pressing in through the uncovered windows.

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