The Power of Presence

I finished up a long work shift, exhausted, but I still wanted to visit my dad at his care facility. On the way there, I stopped at a gas station to grab some of Dad’s favorite treats: sunflower seeds, Jolly Ranchers, ginger ale.

“Here, I brought you something,” I said, holding out the bag to him. As my dad took out each item, he held it high, saying “Oh, I love these,” and “Can you help me open this?” He offered to share, but I wanted him to save them.

I’d already been gone from home for over 12 hours, so I knew I couldn’t stay long. “I better get going,” I told him after an hour.

“Oh, but let me just show you this one cool video I found,” was my dad’s answer. One video became two became four, but I couldn’t make myself pull away. He was clearly enjoying our time together.

Finally I looked at the clock—8:30 p.m.—and gently touched Dad’s hand. “I really do have to go. I’ll come back tomorrow.” I hugged him, sorry to leave. It was hard, but I knew I’d be back the next day and that was what mattered.