DAD SAY'S GOOD
Dad said good The phrase was written at the foot of his bed on an erase board reserved for medical information. His room was dark and isolated. He sat quietly and was gracious for all the visits and medical attention. We spoke of family... He had none. His days were spent alone. No children. No wife. No friends. Fighting cancer...seeking hope...needing purpose He shared of faith. Real...but worldly concerns were choking it's roots. We spoke of hope...buried beneath the clutter of life...unable to recollect where he had last seen it. Memory was his only companion. Days were spent reflecting. Hours went by praying. I asked about the phrase. "Dad said good" What does that mean to you? Tears began to form...a quiver. I wrote that... I'm not sure if I can get it out That's okay, I have time. I would like to hear it. In the stillness of beeping monitors and clicking machines he broke the silence My daddy said that to me before he died. He said "Patrick, you'...