Your three words, my little story

Debra’s words: love, first & sight

 

Debra’s dad just turned eighty six yesterday and at his birthday party, he was bumping into everything. At one point he almost knocked over her fish tank. “Poppa, be careful! Are you alright?” Like many people, he was too vain to wear his glasses.

 

“Yeah, I’m ok Debra.”

 

The next morning, she yelled down the hall, “Your eggs are ready.”

 

“Good! I’m starved.” Poppa use to LOVE reading the paper over breakfast, starting with the front page. After that he would recline in the living room, while drinking his coffee he would finish with the sports page.

 

He hasn’t done that in awhile. The FIRST thing she noticed weeks ago, was his refusal to read. Not really refusing, but he didn’t have his normal enthusiasm for the written word. Reading was his favorite way of passing time.

 

“I’m going to the mall. Want to drive?” The second thing, she noticed was he doesn’t drive anymore.

 

“Sounds good sweetie, you drive though. What are you shopping for?”

 

“Going to get Jim McDonald’s new novel. Why don’t you bring your glasses and you can read it out loud on the way home.” She watched as he picked up his glasses, that was a SIGHT for sore eyes.