As I drove down through and to the other side of the swamp I couldn't help remembering how my dad and I had done this so many times in the past. I loved cutting wood with him. He was such a natural at it. He cut firewood like breathing. He continued cutting firewood after he had taken his wood stove out of his house and plugged up the chimney with cement. I asked him why many times, he never had a good answer but always offered me some. Not all, just what I needed.
On Friday my father was admitted to the hospital for lack of going to the bathroom. My sister and I were told that it could be very serious so we both went and stayed with him. He was in a pretty good mood. He recognized me right away and asked about his brother Paul. He wasn't really able to articulate a question but I knew it what his intention. He was released after a few hours and prescribed an array of meds and referrals to specialists were initiated.
