about to make guacamole with my dad.
we visited his dad today.
instead of learning how to make chip dips, his dad taught him how to throw a ball.
it was weird; hearing my dad tell the lady at the counter, “i’m looking for my dad’s room.”
sometimes i forget he was a kid once, too.
my grandfather ended the visit by holding my dad’s hand and saying, “you wouldn’t believe how much i love you!”
both of them were trying to be strong, but i saw their eyes gloss over.
i made the guac, by the way. my dad was very patient with me & my questions about avocados.
i think its because he misses when his dad could be patient with him.
instead he’s a patient at the hospital
who can very well believe how much he loves his son.
i don’t know. just food for thought.
