There I am sitting down, leaning over with my hands in my face. I'm sick and in the doctor's office. A.J. tagged along saying, “I have to take care of daddy." I continue to look up at her, trying to smile but she knows I'm not feeling well. She crawls down from the paper topped bed and rubs my back saying, “It's Otay daddy. I take care of you." The doctor walks in, “Hey, what's going on?” My daughter with a firm tone, “Daddy is sick and I'm taking care of him.”
He and I were walking out the door. Special time with me as I ran an errand. “Can I sit up front?” Cayden asks?. “Sure” I replied with a, why would you ask tone. Cayden laughs and dances, moving his hips side to side with both arms out pointing his index fingers, “Oh yeah, Oh yeah.” All I can do is appreciate his excitement to be with me.
“Y'all want to go to the park?” “yeah!” A.J. screams with excitement. She then suggest that Carol Jean, our youngest, should stay home. I decline her suggestion telling her, “Momma needs time to write.” She apathetically slaps her legs as if she was flying with broken wings. “Oh man… fine.”
“It's time to go home, daddy.” A.J. said. “Well, I thought we would go get icecream.” I replied, waiting patiently for it to sink in. Then her face lit up, “Yeah, we don't have to go home.”