Nine months ago my father, who is 86, had a serious stroke that left his body paralyzed on the left side. He was a strong and vigorous man before this happened and his struggle to recover has been both sad and inspiring.( I have written about my father in another post) I visit him twice a week and try to make the visit a balance of sympathy and distraction. I love to make him laugh and to encourage him. The visits were difficult and too often I would drive home with my heart heavy and my eyes flooded with tears. Then two months ago I decided to write the story of his life, interviewing him during my visits. At first he was a little reluctant and not sure what would be interesting enough to be worth reading, but little by little he has warmed to this task. He has traveled back in time to share his childhood, his school years, and now, his years in the service during WW2. When I left him Saturday we were on Okinawa, where he was living in a tent, eating hash, and in charge of teletype for the communication unit. I have learned things about my father that I never would have known if I hadn't done this and I am so excited about being able to share his story with all of our family. My Father? Well, when I was leaving Saturday he told me to hurry back because there was a lot more he needed to say. That there was so much more where that came from. I smiled all the way home.



