Love.

February 14th 2006, I was in a rehabilitation center in New Jersey with my 63 yr old father who had been beaten up by cancer. I still don’t understand why the doctors sent him there because he was not rehabilitating at all. He was nearly 90 pounds and he was dying.

At this point he could only get around by wheelchair and didn’t have much desire to be anywhere but the twin sized craftmatic bed. Accept this particular morning he asked my sister and I to take him to the lobby of the facility. So, without question, we got him washed up, dressed, and hoisted him onto the wheelchair. I figured he needed a change in scenery from the sterile white environment he had been lying in for nearly 2 weeks.

When we got to the lobby, there were jewelry vendors selling gifts for Valentine’s day. He must have inquired about it to the nurses. He directed us to a table with a woman behind it wearing a festive red sweater. He took his time examining each piece of accessory, then pointed to a beautiful pair of sterling silver earrings that he wished to purchase. They were for my mother. The women he had spent the last 30 years of his life with, who would soon be left with only memories of him. He asked to be alone with her when he presented the gift.

From what I saw of their relationship growing up, it far from perfect. Yet, at that moment when I was asked to leave the room, I knew that love for them, far exceeded any understanding I could ever have of the emotion.

In the next few days my father was released and sent home at his request. He resided in a room we had set up for him at the house. He died 2 weeks later. My mother still wears the earrings, often. And every time she does, she makes it a point to tell us, “these are the earrings your father got for me”.