Gandhi

If you don't know my dad this will be difficult to picture. He had surgery over a week ago and is waiting to be able to come home. His hospital room is well air-conditioned so he is always cold. To make him more comfortable, the nurses lay big, white cotton blankets that have been in a warming cupboard around his shoulders. With his hair all gone, thanks to 4 months of chemotherapy, he struck me as looking familiar somehow- I mean, other than the obvious fact that he is my father. I came to a realization of who he looks like and was surprised when one of his nurses quietly told me one day that they all think he is cute and with the white blanket around him he looks like Gandhi. He even has the same quiet serenity about him- only with Dad it's mostly that he is worn out from the chemo and bored with sitting around a hospital room. He's still a trooper, though. He walks every chance he gets and does so with strength and purpose. It's so hard to fathom that there is a killer inside his body. I know nobody lives forever but I sure hope he doesn't have to spend a lot of time suffering. I am truly grateful that my son didn't suffer.