When I think about my dad these days, I think of the challenges and struggles he has been dealing with over the past five years, since the death of my mother. We had only a hint of the memory problems he was developing before her passing because she took care of him. It wasn’t that she hid his forgetfulness; it’s just that it wasn’t very consequential while she was there to remind him of things.

Since she’s been gone, the challenges were exposed and have increased enormously, exacerbated by his grief at my mom’s death and his subsequent depression. And his physical challenges have accelerated at the same time.

In short, when I think about my dad now, I am sad because he is not in good shape and I know that he will not get better.

What I should think about is further back, some things only a little further back. Like our last visit to a local Longview diner.

Or his last visit to the legendary Morning Call Coffee Stand, once in the French Quarter of New Orleans, now in Metairie, where he and my mom would go when they were dating.

Or him standing with Mama in front of our house at 111 Kate Street.

Or countless other scenes from the past 62 years.

There are many, many great things to think about and all of them together are his life – not just the present situation. He has led a wonderful life. He was a great husband and father, a model college professor, an exemplary university administrator, and a faithful friend. He was a master storyteller.

He is my dad.