Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Little White House

The little house sat next to the school yard on McKaig Road in Troy. A sweet little house. The place they had raised their two children. I would marry their son.

Many Sundays were spent visiting my in-laws. When we visited, we spent the entire afternoon and evening. Mom Drake and I played card games while Jim and Dad watched football, baseball or whatever was the season sport. It was a place I felt at home.

The school yard butted up to the house. The Drake kids just popped out the back door and over to the school. Lunch at home was easy. A big playground in the back yard was every kids dream. It was home.

After my husband and I divorced, I still stayed in contact with my in-laws. Whenever we were back to visit, we spent time with them. My children would have that time with their grandparents. My son has written a musical based on WWII, a musical written for his grandfather who once shared the war with his grandson. The once and only time he talked about it.

I walked into the room. I didn't recognize him, but he recognized me. Mom was gone. Dad was frail. Tears filled his eyes as I took his hand. I had always had a special bond with Dad. I laid my head on his pillow next to him giving him all the warmth I could.

"I love you, Dad."

"Oh, I love you."

The sweet little house on McKaig Road.

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