I have always liked dogs. My dad has always liked dogs. So, at various holidays or when I wanted to just let my dad know I was thinking of him, I would get him something with a dog in it or on it - a calendar, a stuffed animal, a picture - anything that related to dogs. On my way driving to Pennsylvania in May, I found out my dad was in the hospital with cancer and the prognosis wasn't looking good. So, before going to see him, I stopped by the gift shop to get him something. And there it was - a cute stuffed puppy with floppy ears. When I went to the room, I was almost in shock in what I saw. The man who was my rock growing up now lay there very frail, but as I approached his bedside, his eyes lit up. Then I handed him the puppy and he smiled, squeezed it and put it right next to him in the bed.
My dad and I were always close growing up. You could say I was a daddy's girl. We just had this way of relating and didn't necessarily have to say a word. I remember when we lived in New York, he would run in Central Park and I always wanted to go with him. He told me it was long and didn't want me to get tired, but I would go. We would be gone for hours. Sometimes talking about the future, and sometimes not saying a word. No matter what, he always encouraged me to be myself.
Back to the puppy. My dad was getting more frail even in the 5 days I spent with him. One day he surprisingly grabbed the stuffed puppy and threw it at me in the hospital room. I threw it back. We then had a catch with the stuffed puppy. Yep, right there in the hospital room. The nurses walked by and were smiling and joking with us. It must have been a funny sight. As it turned out, those were some of his last surges of energy in this lifetime and the last time I would see him. Once again, we connected. He was hardly talking at this point and the vim and vigor that I remember as a little girl was gone. But, as always, we related and connected to each other without saying much - just smiling and laughing!
I can imagine his mansion in heaven: there must be puppies all over the place! What a time he must be having! And what another sweet memory I have of the man who was always saying to me growing up: Ellen, just be yourself. Just like he was himself.
Thou wilt shew me the path of life: in thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore. (Psalm 16:11)